


Seasons

by localsportsteam



Category: The Little Mermaid (1989), The Little Mermaid - All Media Types
Genre: Drama, F/M, Family, Romance
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-01-02
Updated: 2018-01-08
Packaged: 2019-02-26 14:55:26
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 4
Words: 43,141
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13238115
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/localsportsteam/pseuds/localsportsteam
Summary: AU/story in four parts. Ariel, daughter of a prominent merchant, struggles to find her place in the world and her large family, always searching for treasures to help preserve the past. Eric, a prince ready to ascend to the throne (and marry!), will do anything to benefit his country, no matter the personal cost. But when focuses only on the future and one stays planted in the past, can they meet in the middle?





	1. Summer

Ariel felt a bead of sweat roll down her forehead, the side of her nose, and down her neck. She would’ve wiped it away, but the day was too hot to possibly exert any effort. There was a _slight_ breeze that barely drifted in and she leaned her head back to greet as much of it as possible.

“Are you still on that sofa? You’ve been there all morning.” Artista came in, scolding. She shut her fan sharply on her left hand and stared down at her youngest sister.

“’s very hot” Ariel slurred, yawning and stretching.

“Don’t be lazy. Weren’t you supposed to be in the store today?”

Shoot! Ariel’s father had been very understanding – with six older sisters, it was highly unlikely that Ariel would ever be able to run the store, so he tolerated her disinterest in it. Attina was in the store almost every day, learning the business of trade. Ariel was only expected to come in once a month, just for the sake of pitching in and socializing.

“Is he furious?” Ariel sat up suddenly, pulling her feet beneath her.

“He’s calmed down.” Artista sighed, sitting down where Ariel’s feet were stretched out just a moment before. “He’s been really understanding, you know. He doesn’t want any of us to feel like we’re doing everything.”

“Even though Attina does do everything.” Ariel smiled a bit.

Artista cracked a smile. “True.” But she still pursed her lips. “I know you don’t care about the store-“

“It’s not that I don’t care! It’s just-“

“That you’d rather be out in the shed, or visiting all the trinket stores, or rummaging through whatever people will let you.” Artista smiled. “Or gardening, or sewing, or horseback riding, or doing _anything_ else. You don’t really care about the store, Ariel.”

“I just don’t prioritize it.” Ariel stressed, hoping the connotation for that would be better received.

Artista rolled her eyes. “Yes, how silly of me. Different words, but same meaning. I’d just be careful. Next thing we go to, no matter what function, or meeting, or anything, you have **got** to be there. Even if you hate it.”

“Even if I hate it.”

“And no forgetting, even if it’s for real.”

“I’ve never faked forgetting!”

“You so have!” Artista said, but raised her hands. “Unimportant. Just keep that in mind. Daddy does _so_ much for us, Ariel. Making sure we represent the family well is the least we can do.”

…

“-and on your coronation day, having a wife beside you would be not only stately, it would be soothing.”

Eric knew that he had been groomed to be king from birth, it wasn’t exactly a secret. Still, the words ‘coronation day’ had so seldom be spoken freely in front of him that he felt himself jolt.

“What is it, m’boy?” Grimsby asked, placing down his cup of tea.

Eric shook his head. “Nothing. I guess everything just hit me for a second.”

Grimsby smiled. “There’s been a lot of preparation leading up to this stage in your life, Eric. I can’t begin to tell you how honored I am to have been in it.”

Eric gave a shy smile. He knew the feelings were sincere, but still, it was so much! “You know I appreciate everything you’ve done, Grim. You’ve…you’ve been like a father to me.”

Grimsby beamed at this. “Thank you, Eric. That really does mean a lot.”

“So that’s why I know I can talk to you about these things – do I really have to be married to be crowned? I don’t remember ever hearing that.”

“Oh, no not at all!” Grimsby said hurriedly. “As prince and heir, you have every right to ascend to the throne by yourself. But, you parents had always wished for you to find the right person to marry before that day was to come.”

“I just haven’t met her, Grim. You know that. I have no reservations against getting married.” Eric sighed, sinking back a little.

“I think you’re approaching it the wrong way, Eric. You’re looking for love before anything else, and that’s…not what princes do. The love for your queen will grow, but you also have to look out for your kingdom.”

“Of course, but-“

“But your kingdom is the most important element here. They need a queen who cares for the people, who will rule with a steady hand, and will do as good of a job ruling as you have, and will continue to. Royal marriages are more about politics than love.”

Eric grimaced a bit at this. He knew that Grimsby was right.

“We don’t want you to end up with someone completely wrong for the country, but we also don’t want you to end up with someone completely wrong for you!” Grimsby assured the man, leaning forward. “Let Carlotta and I help you.”

Carlotta and Grimsby were not Eric’s parents but, at least since his eighth year, they might as well have been. Both tended to him from infanthood, exceeding their roles as maid and servant when his parents perished so suddenly. They had stood by and with Eric for the ten years since that tragic accident, comforting and supporting him. They had never done him wrong.

And, of course, there had been decisions made by Grimsby and Carlotta that Eric didn’t agree with, throughout all stages of his young life. All too many times had he insisted he be allowed sweets before dinner, but he would be lightly chided. When he was thirteen he insisted he didn’t need school anymore, but Carlotta made him go against his will. He had tried to enter dangerous competitions, sail on rough seas, and grew a very unsuccessful patchy beard. For each of these missteps, he was corrected. Even if he couldn’t see that they were right at the time, they proved to be correct.

A marriage was a much more important decision than facial hair or poor weather judgement, but Eric was confident that his faux-parents knew that. They had exercised wonderful sense for so many years, and they would surely handle this delicate situation with care.

“Alright.” Eric gave a curt nod. “I trust you, Grim. And Lottie too. I think I’m ready to be married, and we must all go towards the future, so no point in going kicking and screaming.”

Grimsby gave a little chuckle at that.

“Any match you think is suitable, I think is suitable.” Eric nodded. “You have my complete trust and permission to do whatever you think is proper.”

“Eric, I would never do anything that wasn’t proper.”

“For a man who sleeps in an ascot, I suppose that’s true.”

Grimsby dismissed the comment with a wave of his hand, but Eric saw him smile a bit. “Now, I’d say we get right on this. Every week more and more women are marrying off, which decreases the chances of finding someone right for the country and you.”

“Alright, what exactly are you proposing?”

“We throw a ball, and invited anyone who could really be…capable of the job. High ranking families within the kingdom, prominent business families, royalty from nearer counties.”

“Okay…” Eric said, nodding.

“Now there’s a lot of ways to approach this, but we don’t have to get into this right now. Marriage to a local would reaffirm your already clear commitment to this country. Perhaps unnecessary, but it certainly couldn’t hurt. Especially if it was someone from the business community – that would open an avenue for business and government to be on friendlier terms than they typically are. Marriage to a royal from another country would create an alliance. A marriage to the Norwegian princess, for example, would turn a tepid alliance into a strong partner. A marriage to the princess of Glauerhaven would ease relations between our countries – we have been to war several times in the last century.”

“I know.” Eric nodded. Those history lessons were part of the reason he wanted to quit school.

“A marriage to the duchess of Sweden would also allow for a significant trade boost. While she’s not a princess, her father holds many business partners throughout the continent. There’s all sorts of advantages, we just need to consider what exactly is best – yes for the country, but also if you are able to stumble into any romance.”

Eric suddenly felt very hot. He and Grimsby never talked about this subject much, and it suddenly felt so uncomfortable, existing in a world and a room where romance was real and it was supposed to come for him. Eric had never loved anyone romantically, he had never really had the chance. He had known familial love and platonic love – he was never short of playmates or council, but he was always so busy and engrossed in other things. He had always appreciated love as a concept: as something from afar. It would be very lovely when it happened, but not matter how old he was when he thought of it, it was always something for the future. When he was older, wiser; when it happened naturally.

But that was not his fate; Eric was a prince and he was scheduled to fall in love. In two Saturdays; the seventeenth. The invitations would be sent out the next day.

…

Ariel thought she represented the family just fine, thank you very much. She was the only one making sure that the whole of the family was being represented. Away from the main house was a small structure that could be best described as a shed. It was so unused that her father had had no issue in merely giving it to Ariel for her use, and Ariel made very good use of it indeed.

She had almost no memories of her mother, so she collected what she could here. Ariel’s mother had died in a carriage accident when Ariel was only four, and she had virtually no memories of her. Her mother was a haze, existing in a smile or a one-sentence quip. Every other sister had more memories than her, especially the eldest sisters. Ariel combatted this terrible inequality by rummaging through every bit of the house, collecting notes and possessions and even a large painting.

The painting was the fixture of the room, almost three feet long and two feet wide. Ariel’s mother was the spitting image of her youngest daughter. Her hair was done up with curls and a wide-brimmed cobalt hat. She had a fine ruffled gown and resting on her décolletage was the most unique necklace Ariel had ever seen. Small sapphires were arranged in the shape of a wave, surrounded by clustered together diamonds. The whole thing was shaped loosely like a star and it hung from a silver chain.

She had asked her father where the necklace came from and he said he wasn’t sure. She had always had it, ever since she was little. It must’ve been a fine gift from a family member, but he didn’t remember her ever telling him which one. Ariel then asked where the necklace was but, once again, he wasn’t sure. It wasn’t found with her body, but her mother had gotten caught in a storm that forced her down a large hill, so it could’ve rolled away. It could’ve been stolen by thieves. All that can be sure was that it was never found.

Lifting her skirts Ariel sat on the wooden floor. There were papers tacked all to the wall and she knew that without context, she must’ve looked quite mad. It didn’t matter. She was visiting her mother.

…

Duchess Ursula received an invitation not out of any respect or desire for her to be there, but merely because Duchess Ursula had always received invitations. She had been planted into society since her marriage to the late Duke Morgan, and with such a prominent position came the eternal perks. She was most pleased to find she received no tangible shift in social situation, especially considering the…mysterious conditions under which her husband perished.

It was wise of them, anyway, to not displease her. Though she of course did not share this fact, Ursula had a most unusual skillset. It had been hard to hide from her husband, but her skill with potions was easily hidden from the world. Tucked away in a room behind her bedroom she was able to keep her few servants away, and do whatever needed to be done.

She had lost any shame she once felt at arriving to a ball unescorted. She had grown old, and with that came any confidence she may have once yearned for in her youth. With this confidence, came the ideas for audacious plans. As a duchess, she was already one of the most high-ranking women in the kingdom.

In fact, it would be only a short leap to be queen.

…

Ariel had promised that she wouldn’t forget, so she didn’t, and here she was. Prince Eric’s castle…it _is_ beautiful. She had been here before, we she was quite young, so she didn’t really remember many details. Like her mother, this too was but a hazy memory. She wasn’t royalty, so it wasn’t as common for her or her sisters to be invited to these sorts of things. In fact, he made her sort of wonder why her family had been invited at all. While the party was large, it was also strangely intimate. Most of the people she had befriended from other trading families were not there. Ariel furrowed her brow at this but knew it would be best not to ask – all she would really earn herself was an eyeroll or a scold.

Ariel looked around and saw the prince making his rounds, getting even closer to her family. He had such blue eyes, and when he smiled his dimples would come out. She watched him talk and laugh with the other attendees, moving quickly but not too quickly, as to not be rude.

“You’ve heard the rumors, I’m sure.” Alana whispered, just loudly enough that the sisters nearest to her could hear.

“Which ones?” Adella pressed.

“That this whole ball was organized so that Prince Eric could find a wife.”

For just a second, Ariel let herself imagine what exactly it would be like to be Prince Eric’s wife. It was a silly thought – she knew nothing about him other than that he seemed to be good with crowds of people, and he seemed to do a fine enough job running the country. But she still didn’t push it out of her head – it was pushed out for her, by Adella’s squeal.

“Oh, you’re not lying, right?” Adella pressed. “It would be so cruel if you were lying right now!”

“I’m only passing on information I’ve heard, though I can’t necessarily speak to the truth of the statements. But yes, I promise I’m not just making it up.” Alana shrugged, opening her fan.

Ariel smiled. She wished Adella the best of luck, but the girl could be won over in a second by any man who was proclaimed ‘single’. Even if the prince didn’t look her way tonight, Ariel was sure that Adella would bounce back by the morning.

The prince was not the focus of her night, though. Tonight was about keeping a promise to her family and proving that she could show up. Tonight was about minding her manners and representing her loved ones well. And tonight, since she had been doing those first two so well, was about enjoying all the lovely touches in the palace, and exploring whatever new and interesting things would be inside.

With a slight nod to her family, Ariel set off to do just that.

She would still represent her family well, and wouldn’t try to go in anywhere she was sure that she wasn’t supposed to be – places with locked doors or places that had things that looked expensive or fragile. Ariel didn’t want to be a nuisance, and she would definitely slip out before anyone would even notice she left the ballroom. But how often was one in a palace? Who wouldn’t be curious?

…

Eric didn’t hate balls, or, to speak more correctly, Eric didn’t hate the first two hours of balls. For that period of time he was lively and happy to spend time with people he did genuinely like. He enjoyed discussing some light politics and business – most everyone was too polite to turn it into a real conversation. In spite of the pressure of the evening, he was even enjoying this ball.

“-but I’m not really sure what exactly she expected to happen with that!” the Swedish duchess went on, laughing at her own joke, clearly with the hope that Eric would laugh as well.

Eric laughed, not really sure exactly what she said; his mind was wandering, but he really shouldn’t be so rude.

Those two precious hours had ended and Eric found his energy draining very rapidly. Now the faces were all blending together and he found himself lagging just a half-step behind in conversations. He knew he wasn’t being nearly as lively or engaging as he could be, and if Duchess Aina hadn’t noticed by now, she surely would soon. Hopefully, she would be able to forgive him.

“Excuse me.” Eric gave her a warm smile and she dipped her head a little, signaling that it was okay for him to leave.

Eric slipped through a few crowds of people but stopped when he felt a tug on his arm.

“Eric, you’re doing splendidly. I’ve heard so many wonderful things about you, really.” Grimsby smiled.

“Thanks, Grim. I’m just gonna-“

“You must come over here, you still need to meet a few more women! Dinner will be served in an hour, and mingling will be more difficult after that.”

Eric knew protesting was no good. He shrugged a little and followed Grimsby. Grimsby brought the boy to two girls who were gossiping. One was a slight young woman, with hair so blonde it was almost white. The other was darker and more curved, and she bobbed a quick curtsey in her pink dress.

“Eric, this is Annabelle.”

“Pleasure to meet you.”

“Charmed.”

“Eric, this is Margaret.”

“Lovely to meet you.”

“Lovely to meet you as well.”

“So, Prince Eric” Margaret cocked her head, letting her dark, short hair graze past her shoulder.. “What is the occasion for this grand ball?”

While Eric was confident rumors would fly, it was never announced that the ball was for the sake of introducing him to his future wife. While Eric understood the importance of a political marriage, he also knew that proclaiming that was his purpose would only cause trouble. He did, also, hope that by concealing this he would maintain some level of authenticity. That maybe a woman would love him tonight, just for the sake of having a nice dance together.

“What is the point of having a ballroom, if not to sometimes fill it with people?”

She smiled at him, and he couldn’t help but notice how nervous she was.

…

Ariel crept up a flight of winding stairs. The steps were quite small and narrow, to the point where she couldn’t even fit her whole foot on them, and had to walk up on tip toe.

“There better be a treasure trove at the top of this, for all this effort.” She mumbled to herself, wheezing.

She wished she had counted how many stairs she had to go up, just so she could tell her sisters later, but she had already walked too many to be worth going back down to count. But they ended eventually, as they were bound to do, and she found herself in a room that was almost unworthy of the climb. There was a very large couch and a braided rug. There was a big window with some simple drapes, and a table with a few candles on it. This was it?

Walking over to the window, she got a better sense of clarity. _Oh_.

The tower had a perfect view of the seaside part of town, still lit up with the candles of the early evening. The sea lapped against the shore, tugging a few small sailboats that were tied to a pier.

She didn’t know why the room was so simply finished – how could anyone not want to come up here? The whole point of having legs was to climb to views like these. Ariel leaned out the window and rested her chin on rolled-up hands.

Cicadas hummed through the night and Ariel was so overtaken by the sights the tower provided that she could only focus on one sound at a time. The cicadas, the frogs from the pond below, the tide crashing in, the last few carriages coming home. She was too far removed from the party to pick up on even the existence of conversation.

…

Ursula twirled a long strand of pearls between her fingers, surveying the party. But mostly watching the prince, like how an octopus hid from its prey until just the right moment. He had flitted around the party, talking to so many women that he may as well have just announced that the purpose of the ball was, in fact, to find a bride. He also didn’t seem to speak with any of them for more than fifteen or twenty minutes, so it was beyond her how her expected to pick a wife from such a small sampling.

Then again, his foolishness would only help her more, so who was she to scoff at the boy? It would be a terrible disposition to get herself into, especially seeing how he was growing closer, practically clawing his way over towards where she had planted herself for the duration of the cocktail service.

“Why hello, Prince Eric.” She purred.

Eric had never wanted that to be his name less. He only needed fifteen minutes alone, to rest and recharge. But it seemed that just as soon as he found a way to end a conversation, another one would pop up.

“Hello, Duchess Ursula.” He said smiling.

“What a lovely party. You certainly know how to throw them.” Ursula said, surveying all around. “Come, tell me more about the castle. Give me a tour, won’t you dear? Just around the room a bit, nothing to extravagant. I would hate to exhaust you.”

It was a question, but there was really only one answer.

“Of course.” Eric grimaced, allowing her to take his arm.

Ursula raised her chin and made eye contact with the Prince’s manservant, Grumbly or something. He was studying the two, with an intrigued look on his face. Ursula flashed her brightest smile at him and the man looked away, ashamed to be caught staring. If they were standing close, Ursula would’ve assured him he shouldn’t feel poorly. There’s nothing she wanted more than for people to notice them together.

…

Eventually, Ariel stopped focusing on sounds at all and used all of her energy to see. Which created the most awkward disadvantage when she was unable to hear the increasing noise of someone coming up the stairs.

She sighed and hummed, letting one harm drop from her chin to dangle and sway out the window. She arched her back and spread her feet. She could stare at this forever. Ariel knew she shouldn’t have even been here and she’d overstayed her invitation regardless. It was time to go.

“Hello?”

Ariel gasped and spun around, locking eyes with Prince Eric. “I just wanted to see.” She spilled, saying words before she had even thought about what _to_ say. She grimaced a little. That was probably the wrong thing to say.

Eric looked out the window. “I don’t blame you.” He smiled a bit, folding his hands behind his back and approaching. “I like to be here, too.”

Ariel settled back a little as she looked up at him. He was very handsome, and she felt almost silly for noticing that. His face wasn’t boyish at all and even in the dying light and rising moon she could tell her had lovely eyes. She wanted to touch his face but she did have _some_ impulse control, so she didn’t.

“I didn’t know what’d be at the top, I-I-“ Ariel searched for the right thing to say.

“It’s fine.” Eric smiled turning to look out the window himself. He closed his eyes and inhaled deeply. “You can catch the sea even from here.”

“I love it.”

“If I could change one thing about this castle, I would move it closer to the ocean. Maybe even in it.”

Ariel giggled a little. “Maybe put it completely under the water?”

Eric gave a quick smile. “It’d certainly make it much harder for people to sneak around my home.”

Ariel flushed a little, overcome with the reality of her own actions. “Thank you for being so kind. I really shouldn’t have snuck up here.”

Eric smiled a little. She was right – it was weird – but he still appreciated her company. He genuinely enjoyed it. “It’s fine.” He smiled. “In fact, I wouldn’t even mind if you wanted to come back.”

Ariel’s mouth dropped open; she couldn’t help it. “Do you mean it? Can I really?”

Eric laughed. Yes, most of his guests were on business only, but no one had ever expressed such a desire to return. “Yes, I really mean it. In fact, can I show you around a bit now?”

“Please!” Ariel exclaimed, practically bouncing over to him.

“Here, if we go downstairs I’ll show you my bedroom. In my option, there’s a better view from my bedroom window.”

Eric moved down the tiny stairs with the quickness of a man who had climbed them many, many times and Ariel found herself slightly out of breath and frustrated with his skill. He held a finger to his lips and the two crept down the hallway that passed by the still bustling ballroom, the entire event carrying on without the man most vital to its functioning.

“We’ll go back soon, I promise.” Eric said, peering over his shoulder.

“Oh, believe me, don’t feel any need to rush.” Ariel said excitedly.  

She couldn’t see, but Eric smiled at that.

“Here,” he pushed open a set of double doors and revealed a large bedroom. He tugged her over to the window, pushing it open. “look.”

The bedroom was on the ground floor and the water perhaps fifty feet from the castle. 

“During high tide you can practically jump into the ocean.” Eric smiled. “Tide pools form over there!” he pointed to his left.

Ariel was amazed – imagine having the whole ocean at your doorstep!

“It looks better in the daylight.” Eric said, after only a moment of silence.

“I’d sure like to see that!” Ariel said, no real meaning behind it.

“Then I suppose you must.”

…

She did. Of course, Eric was practically king and could not dedicate all his time to tide pools and flower bouquets. When he had a free hour, any time, he sent a letter and a carriage to Ariel’s home. It was quite funny to her – Daddy was always at the shop, Attina, the stand in mother, was always with him, and none of her sisters had even a hint of the authority to tell her what to do.

And she wouldn’t tell them where she was going, either. The first time the note and carriage appeared Alana demanded that Ariel give her at least some sort of hint, and tried to snatch it from her hand, but Ariel shoved the letter down the front of her dress and laughed as she hopped into the carriage. She felt rather fancy, leaning back in the ornate carriage. All by herself. Headed to the palace. She felt strange for not being nervous – she was going to the castle to spend time with a prince, after all. This wasn’t an everyday occurrence. But she couldn’t bring herself to dread it, or worry. She was just taking a carriage to meet a boy. It happens, right?

The carriage pulled up in front of the castle, at almost the same time Prince Eric was walking out.

“I saw you coming.” He beamed at her and Ariel was secretly relieved that she hadn’t imagined him looking better than he actually did. He was beautiful.

“I suppose you would recognize the carriage.” Ariel spoke as Eric held her hand and helped her disembark from the carriage.

“Is there anything in particular you’d like to see?” Eric asked.

“Everything.” Ariel breathed, looking around.

“Here, let’s go through the palace first.”

Ariel laughed. “All in one day?”

“You can come back.” Eric said, a little more quietly than he probably intended.

Ariel looked up at him, staring down at her. “We should probably get started.”

Eric pulled Ariel into the westward tower to show her another aerial view of the kingdom. Ariel sighed and pointed out different shops and houses she could recognize, even from way up there.

“That’s baker Johnathon!” Ariel exclaimed.

“How can you possibly tell that?”

“Well he’s coming out of the bakery, and I don’t know any other man that round!”

Eric laughed at this and Ariel began pointing out people and making elaborate backstories.

“That’s Marina McMolald-“

“That’s her name, huh?”

“Yes Eric, that’s what I said. Anyway, Marina McMellon is a-“

“Hold on, you just changed her name.”

“She changes it whenever someone interrupts me, actually.”

“Does she know whenever you’re interrupted?”

“Yes she’s a witch and she can see everything, thank you for asking.”

Eric laughed and stepped closer, pushing the top of Ariel’s left hip to turn her towards him. “Come on, let’s go outside.”

“Where to?” Ariel said, walking next to him.

Eric shrugged. “The beach?”

“I love the beach.” Ariel said, taking his hand to go down – yet another! - set of too-small stairs. “A lot more than I like these stairs.”

Eric laughed. “Carlotta used to tell me that the stairs were built for elves. I think she just didn’t want me sneaking off somewhere she couldn’t find me, but who knows.”

“Maybe that’s why all the people in town below looked so small. They were secretly elves.”

Eric nodded vigorously, as if this was even remotely possible. “I’d say that’s the most likely explanation.”

Ariel laughed and the two walked down the hall, through the foyer, and out to the beach. Ariel gathered her skirts some six-odd inches off the ground and ran sprinting into the water, laughing at the familiar cold.

Eric kicked off his boots and rolled up the hem of his pants, wading in right up to the tip of the fabric.

“Hey, no fair!” Eric yelled after Ariel, noticing how she was able to gather her skirts up to her knees and wade in far deeper than he could.

Ariel laughed at him, standing basically ankle deep. “I thought you said you _liked_ the beach!”

“I do! I just didn’t know we were going to go in the water!”

“Afraid to get your princely hems wet?” she smirked.

“You’re the one with your skirts all bunched up!”

“Seems like you’ve got something bunched up too.”

“All right, you asked for it.”

Now, Eric was a prince who was practically king. He was eighteen years old. He had shown strength, resilience, and confidence unmatched by many people twice his age. He still deeply feared the scolding he was going to get from Carlotta for getting his clothes wet. But he couldn’t lose this opportunity. He ran-lunged towards Ariel, meeting more resistance from the water and unable to fully run.

She screamed, and it trickled off into a laugh as she hugged her skirts to her thighs and tried to run away, run deeper.

“Oh no, you don’t!” Eric laughed, wrapping his arms around her and pulling her down.

“Nooooo!” Ariel laughed as he dragged her.

“Afraid to get your hems wet, eh?”

Ariel shrieked when he released her and dropped down into the water, dunking herself under completely and tossing her hair when she came back up.

“Help me up?” she asked sweetly, so sweetly that if Eric had known her better it would’ve been a ruse.

He reached down his hand and with one sharp tug, Ariel pulled him down on top of her. Eric righted himself and gave up any remaining possible hope of keeping any part of his outfit dry. He looked down at Ariel, who was beaming up at him, and he felt the breath positively sucked out of him.

Ariel looked up at Eric. He wasn’t moving, he was just so perfectly still. She reached up and touched his face, sighing gently before she could stop herself. Eric reached out and cupped her chin with his wet hand. She scrunched up her nose to laugh but Eric brought his face to hers before she had a chance. Still, he could feel her smile.

Ariel reached her arm up to twine around his neck, forgetting that her arm was the only thing still keeping them partially above water. Startling them both, they tumbled back and plunged the rest of their bodies in the water. Ariel swallowed a gulp of seawater and emerged spitting it out and catching her breath. Eric pushed his dark hair back with his hands and laughed as Ariel dry heaved.

“Are you alright?” he asked, rubbing her back softly.

“Peachy.” Ariel wheezed.

“Good.” Eric said softly, taking her face in his hands again. Each fully supporting their own weight, they kissed again.

…

Glowing, beaming, Ariel slid back inside the house. No one was waiting for her – like her father would do when she missed curfew or got in trouble at school. She gave a victorious smile to the open air and turned down the hallway and into the parlor room, where five of her sisters sat, very clearly waiting for her.

“We’re gonna tell Daddy.” Aquata said smugly.

Ariel’s heart bounced back with dread. But she gave a slight shrug. “If you must.”

Andrina’s face deflated. “We won’t if you tell us where you went. Who sent the carriage?”

Ariel shrugged. “I don’t want to tell you if you’re just gonna run to daddy.”

“Aw, Ariel! You knew we wouldn’t _really_ do that!”

“Do I?” Ariel said, only half-teasing.

“Ariel!” her sisters screeched. “You have to tell us.”

“It was nothing.” Ariel shrugged. “Maybe I was just taking a ride in the country. Maybe I was alone.”

Her sisters leaned forward, waiting for her to continue.

“Then again,” Ariel tapped a finger to her lips. “Maybe I wasn’t.”

She turned on her heel and ran upstairs, laughing at the piercing “Ariel!” that was yelled at her escape.

…

“I love this color.” Ariel said, stroking the satin of the loveseat she sunk down upon.

“It is nice.” Eric nodded, turning back to all the items on the shelf, hoping to pick out one interesting enough to show Ariel.

“My mom had a dress this color, I think it was her favorite.”

“Oh? What happened to it?” Eric asked, his mind still on the objects.

“I’m not really sure. She died some time ago.”

Eric put down the small bust he was holding and came to sit by her. “I’m sorry to hear that. What makes you think it was her favorite?”

“She was wearing it in a painting I have of her. I have this whole shed full of things that were hers.”

“I’d like to see that, if you’d like to show it to me.”

Ariel smiled at this. Far too many people clammed up and became uncomfortable when she started talking about her mother. She understood why, but she resented it. “I think I would like you to see that, yes.” She nodded.

“Would you like to tell me more about her?”

Ariel nodded, slowly, trying to think of the right words to say. “I love her, I still do. But she died when I was very young – about seven. I hardly remember her.”

Eric nodded, leaning towards her.

“So I’m trying to get parts of her back. There’s this shed on our property, and I keep anything in it that’s associated with her. I like being in there. I’m always trying to put whatever I can in there. Some days I’ll just hunt through the house, go through every container in the storage rooms. My dad didn’t get rid of much stuff, he says, but it’s been spread all over the house and tucked away. I can’t always tell if something was hers, or in Attina’s – that’s my oldest sister.”

“Do you think I could see this shed?” Eric asked.

Ariel felt very warm. Her sisters didn’t even want to see the shed, they thought it would only be dressing, even though Ariel had tried so hard to not make it that way. She felt as though she had succeeded.

“Yes. I would like that a lot.” She said softly.

…

There was never much time in between their visits, but each firmly agreed that there was always too much time. Ariel had expressed this sentiment first, leaping out of the carriage and into Eric’s arms.

“I miss you, too. So much.” Eric ran his thumb across her jaw.

Today, they were going to a nearby meadow. Eric had asked one of the chefs to pack him a picnic lunch. And, as he was prince, after all, the chef happily obliged – without asking any questions. The prince never owed anyone an explanation.

It was in walking distance – a little north of the castle and up a hill with a slow incline. Ariel took it at a quicker pace than Eric, who was the one carrying the basket, but that gave her a chance to set up the blanket and get things ready.

“It’s beautiful up here!” Ariel exclaimed, plopping down and looking around.

“That’s why I wanted to bring you.” Eric said, placing down the basket. “I hoped that you would love it.”

“I do!” Ariel said, with great sincerity.

Already a month had passed, but neither of them were keeping adequate track of the time passing – rather, they were hardly aware that time was. Every day was part of an endless summer afternoon, stretching into each other.

“I love your hair.” Eric said almost absentmindedly, running his fingers through it as Ariel giggled.

“Am I a dog?”

“No.” Eric said, very seriously. “That’s Max. I’ve seen Max. You two don’t look alike.”

“Oh Eric, how you flatter me. I’m going to get a big head.” Ariel batted her eyelashes.

“I doubt it. If I haven’t made your head swell up by now, I think you’re immune.”

“Okay,” Ariel said, dropping the conversation to lean in and kiss him. One long kiss, peck on the lips, peck on the cheek, peck on the other cheek.

“Oh no, come back here.” Eric said, reaching out for Ariel as she leaned away.

She laughed lightly and freely, and it was carried away on the summer breeze.

…

A week after their romp at the meadow, the two had spent the day at the beach. This time, Eric was much more properly attired and the two had a roaring time. Ariel made several attempts to tackle him down into the waves and all but one were successful – that time, he was able to scoop her up and march her out to deeper

“Come late tonight.” Eric had whispered that to her as they were parting, even though there was no one around them to possibly overhear.

Ariel’s heart dropped into her stomach. She had had a brief, awkward talk with her father and several veiled discussions with her sisters. Surely that wasn’t what he was implying?

“W-why?” she stammered, a little more nervously than she had hoped.

“I want to see you.” Eric said, dipping her head back to kiss her. “I have a dinnertime meeting I can’t miss, but today wasn’t enough.” He wrapped his arms around her and pulled her onto his lap.

Ariel melted into him, pushing her hands into his hair. “Mmm…okay.”

Eric kissed her jawline. “I have to go.”

Ariel had been miffed the first few times he had cut their time together short, but she had learned to not take it personally. He wasn’t trying to be rude and he did care about her, but more than anything he was a prince, and that meant he had to attend to whatever the country needed before anything else.

She would always be able to see him again, anyway.

…

Most of the time, Ariel liked sleeping in the same room as her sisters. The seven of them seldom all agreed, but they loved each other and usually were able to get along reasonably well. They’d be able to stay up and talk when something exciting had happened, and if one sister was down, the others were often quick to cheer her up.

Ariel liked the girlish closeness they never lost. Even as she and her sisters grew older and matured, they never stopped being friends. Sure, they fought and spat and Ariel sometimes felt like the odd one out, but she loved them and they loved her. She liked being able to be close to them.

Today, it was only an obstacle.

Ariel wished that she could float across the ground, but instead she was resigned to creeping across the floorboards, praying that she didn’t hit the ones that creaked. She held her shoes in her left hand and held up her skirts with her right. She watched her sisters as she walked by, crept by, up on the tips of her toes. Attina was sleeping, face in pillow. Good. Alana was snoring, making the first time Ariel was grateful for that, as it helped to cover some of the noise she made.

Her goal was the window – it was right between Andrina’s and Adella’s beds, but it led out to a flat window covering, and she had leaned a ladder against the side of the house next to it so she could shimmy down and back up. Ariel held her breath as she took the first step between her sisters’ beds.

“Where are you going?” Adella hissed.

So close.

“Nowhere bad.” Ariel said. Vague, but honest.

“Tell me!” Adella said, a little louder.

“Sh!” Ariel said sharply. “You’ll wake everyone up.”

“I’ll go back to bed as soon as you tell me.” Adella sat up, looking Ariel squarely in the eyes. “Is it a boy.”

Ariel was quiet.

“It is!” Adella squeaked.

“You know! Now be quiet!”

“I understand.” Adella smiled. “When are you coming back?”

“I don’t know. Soon. Please don’t tell.” Ariel implored her.

“I won’t. I promise.” Adella smiled.

Ariel grinned at her sister and slid the window open. Ducking out, she was gone. Scot free.

…

“Hello.” Eric said, scooping Ariel out of the carriage, as opposed to just helping her down.

There was no shame in his being with Ariel, but Eric wasn’t ready for this to be an official royal courtship. He wasn’t ready for them to be supervised and talked about and have every person in the kingdom hunting for different facets of their relationship and discussing it with their friends. He knew that Grim and Carlotta would be happy, eventually, but he also knew that Carlotta would throw a fit about him ‘growing up’ and Grimsby would make everything more formal and structured than it needed to be.

Eric liked being able to just relax with Ariel, to just spend time on the beach or in a meadow. He liked being able to be loud and laugh and be informal, and he knew that that would stop as soon as it was official. He knew he’d start that official process soon, but, in all honesty, he hadn’t given it that much thought. The summer, as it was, was too important.

“What are we gonna do?” Ariel asked, breaking their kiss.

“Whatever you want.” He rubbed little circles on the small of her back.

“Is there anything in particular that _you_ wanted to do?” Ariel stressed again.

“Just be with you.” Eric kissed her cheek again.

“Honest?”

Eric chuckled a little. “Why would you doubt that?”

“It’s just it’s late, and I’ve never been here at night and-“

“Oh,” Eric said, suddenly realizing what she was implying. “Ariel I wasn’t trying to have sex with you.” He flushed very red. “I mean, not that I – um, if that was even what you were implying, oh God.”

“No, no!” Ariel held up her hands to stop his rambling, relief rushing over her body.

Eric felt hot all over, mostly with embarrassment. He didn’t want to talk about this. But before he could stop himself, he laughed. Look at him, a man mature enough to be king, to command himself, was unable to even bring up the topic of sex with a girl he fancied without being absolutely beside himself.

Thankfully, Ariel didn’t misinterpret his laughing at the situation as laughing at her, and she actually smiled too.

“Oh, I feel silly now.” She said.

“Don’t.” Eric said, kissing her temple. “You know I want you.”

Ariel flushed at this, and opened her mouth to say something, but ultimately kept quiet.

“I just want to see you as much as I can, as often as I can.” Eric said, categorizing the manic fever that swept their summer.

“Agreed.” Ariel nodded, pressing her lips to his again.

…

“I got you something.” Eric said, a shot of excitement in his voice.

“What?” Ariel pushed her bangs back, looking up from her sketchbook. She had never taken too keen of an interest in drawing but Eric had given her some charcoal and one of his empty sketchbooks and, upon trying it out seriously, she found that she liked it. The charcoal was messy and left a spot or two on her dress, but Adella always helped her get them out.

Eric held out a package, wrapped up in thin paper.

“Oh, a gift! Eric, you shouldn’t have.”

“I wanted to.”

“But you always give me so many gift, and I can never find anything good for you-“

“I _want_ to give you these gifts. You don’t have to get me anything.”

Ariel sighed and looked up at him, but there was no point in making a lovely gesture into a fight. “Thank you.”

She tugged the ribbon that was wrapped around it and unfolded the paper. “Oh!” she said happily, holding the present up to the light.

It was a ribbon, light purple, with starfish patterned throughout it.

“Your hair kept getting in the way when you would draw or when we would do anything, so I hoped this would help.

“I love it!” Ariel said, leaning over to kiss his cheek.

Eric took the ribbon from her and braided her hair down her back, tying it off with the ribbon at the end.

…

They never made plans beyond ‘they next time I see you’. To Ariel and Eric, the here and now was so consuming that there was no need to plan for the future. Not once, did either of them mention next year, next season, or even the next month. It was one jump ahead, _always_ only one jump ahead.

Eric’s dreamy disposition did not transfer well to his work, and he had to shake himself out of any reverie in order to get into his work, often with Grimsby right by his side. Neither Grim nor Carlotta were even aware of the existence of Ariel. They probably knew of Mr. Triton, and would be vaguely aware of the business he dealt it, and would probably assume that he had children, but beyond that was beyond them. They certainly had no clue that Eric was associating with the family.

“Eric, I have good news!” Grimsby said one day, as the summer was coming to an end.

“What is it, Grim.”

“It’s amazing what a few simple letters will do.” Grimsby settled himself down. “Eric, you have a fiancé.”

Every muscle in Eric’s body clenched. Of course this was still happening. He had given Grimsby full and free rein to arrange a marriage, but he had gotten so swept up in Ariel, so swept up in the summer…he had completely forgotten.

“Who?” he spat out, a little more angrily than me meant, a lot more angrily than one should respond to an engagement.

“Princess Margaret, of Glauerhaven.”

“Does anyone else know?” Eric asked.

“Just the princess and her family - and Carlotta” Grimsby smiled, clearly unaware of Eric’s dark mood. “Congratulations.”

In only a moment, in just a few simple letters, his entire world had changed.


	2. Fall

A small stack of letters, there seemed to be three, were placed in front of Eric. They had been opened, but Eric even now had not read the contents of them. Eric was suddenly very aware of the chill that had come into the air, throughout the palace, and seeped through his bones. It had of course been getting cooler as the summer waned and closed, but Eric thought that type of cold was only confined to nights. It was clear now that that was not the case. “Why did you tell Margaret without letting me know first?” Eric said, leaning forward.

“Why Eric, you gave me complete control over the engagement process.” Grimsby said, genuinely confused. “Not to mention, it seemed a bit cruel to tease you with possible engagements before anything was finalized. I did expect it to take more than a few letters, and I was hoping to have a bit more of a discussion with you, but you must’ve had quite the conversation, for her family agreed to the engagement very quickly. There was little talk of dowry or negotiation. The girl must fancy you.”

Eric started shaking his head.

“I’m sure you must be nervous-“

“No, Grim. Let me explain. I’m in love with someone else.” Eric said, flicking his eyes up to meet Grimsby’s.

“Eric, what do you mean? Have you been writing letters to a girl from the ball?”

“In a way, yeah. We’ve mostly been spending time together. She’s one of Mr. Triton’s – the merchant – daughters. Her name is Ariel.”

“I’m sorry, Eric.” Grimsby said, well, grimly. “I didn’t know.”

“So, I’m sure you understand why I can’t possibly go through with the engagement.” Eric pressed. “It’s nothing against the institution of marriage, and if you’d like to meet Ariel I’ll ask her. If you want me married next week I’ll propose to Ariel tonight. But we just have to fix” Eric gestured to the letters Grimsby had placed in front of him. “this.”

“Are you engaged to this Ariel?” Grimsby asked for clarification, the answer already quite clear.

“No, but I supposed ‘not yet’ would be a more proper answer.” Eric said, almost surprising himself with his own honesty. He and Ariel had never discussed getting engaged. Something in him just knew so surely that she would say yes.

“Then I’m afraid this is not so easily fixed.” Grimsby said. “You know we’ve been to war with Glauerhaven three times – and historically recently! The last conflict ended while you were still a young child. I know you know this, and I know we’ve discussed this.”

Eric sat there, letting the entirety of Margaret’s title sink in. Refusing a Margaret is easy, because Margarets are just girls that aren’t Ariel, Margarets are girls that won’t sit in the sea with you, that won’t try charcoal drawing even though they hate the idea, that won’t sneak away from a ball just to see what else is there. Margarets were likely lovely in their own way, but Eric didn’t love a Margaret, he loved Ariel. But refusing a Princess Margaret of Glauerhaven, especially after an engagement had already been accepted and arranged, was much harder. Marrying her would mean security for his people, it would mean melting the iciness between their countries.

Asking him to marry a stranger when he wasn’t in love with anyone, and when he had only his country to look after was already asking a lot, but Eric would do anything if it meant his people would be happier or better off. But the summer had changed everything, and Eric needed to find a way out; any way out.

“I know that, Grim. But we can mediate politics in ways other than marriage. Just because we aren’t married doesn’t mean we can’t still get along. I understand marriage would expedite the process, and it would be nice to have that success practically ensured, but I’ll send more ambassadors over and-“

“Eric, I don’t think you understand how big of a decision has already been undertaken.” Grimsby interrupted. “This is a proud family, and a tempestuous country. Margaret is their last unmarried daughter, and, though her sisters married young, she is older than any of they were when they got married. If you were to break off this engagement, it would not only damage reactions, it might provoke war.”

“Oh, Grim, I don’t know about that. I know that we’ve been to war several times before, but I’m not sure this would do it.”

“You’ve been to war over trade, over a small island that had been accepted as ours for centuries. Their king is young, relatively speaking, and looking for his place in history. Any slight to his honor or image, such as breaking an engagement with his daughter, could be enough to provoke war. It’s not even a stretch to imagine that, Eric. I’d imagine anyone doing anything he did not approve of or, at the very least, anything one of his family members didn’t approve of, would very easily be enough to start a conflict.”

“I know they’ve been unreasonable in the past-“

“In the recent past. Several times. I am not worrying about kings of centuries or even decades ago. I am considering the temperament of the current ruling family and their hotheaded king.” Grimsby stressed.

“I’m just not sure it would cause war.” Eric said, his voice more pleading than he meant it to be.

“But are you sure it wouldn’t, Eric?” Grimsby pressed. “If a war starts, thousands of men will be displaced to fight, straining their families and their towns. Some will die. Depending on how long the conflict lasts, it could be hundreds, or even thousands. Are you really willing to risk that?”

“No.” Eric said, without pause or hesitation. Not one person should suffer for his own selfishness. “But is there any way to discusses this with the royal family?”

“There’s no diplomatic way to do it, that’s for sure.” Grimsby said, after a moment of thought. “Anything you say will have to instantly reveal that you don’t want to go through with the marriage, no matter how much we lie and assure that you’re willing to. It can only portray that you’ll settle for her, which is of course a great insult.”

“Yes, I suppose it would be.” Eric furrowed his brow. “Are you sure she _wants_ to marry me? We hardly had a discussion, and I don’t believe I had personally met her before then.”

“I can’t speak for her. My communication was with her parents.” Grimsby said. “Clearly she agreed, and quickly. While I would love to confirm, and possibly find that way out of this engagement, there is sadly no way to find that out without also giving the impression – correct though it may be – that you don’t want to marry her.”

Eric slumped back silently.

“I’m very sorry, Eric.” Grimsby said. “I didn’t know that you had started up any sort of relationship. I hope that the two of you can understand, and separate accordingly.” Grimsby reached out and took Eric’s hand, squeezing it. “Do you want to talk about it?”

“Not right now.” Eric mumbled.

“Would you like to be alone?”

“Yes.”

Grimsby squeezed Eric’s shoulder, wishing he could comfort the boy or fix the situation he had caused. He felt terrible, and would never have pursued any sort of engagement if he didn’t think that’s what was best for Eric. He now wanted very much to meet this Ariel, but it would not be possible to do so without giving new emotional wounds to the man who felt like his son, so for his own sake as well as Eric’s, Grimsby would not ask to do that.

Unfortunately, this engagement had to proceed. But Grimsby could grant Eric time. There would be no announcement quite yet, but the wheels were spinning and the gears were turning. Eric was engaged, regardless of where his heart laid.

…

It’s a miracle the kingdom was a secure as it was, with the amount of information Ursula could pull from a few simple connections at the palace. You’d think royal secrets would’ve already leaked all over the world. Sometimes it helped to be such a small, unimportant country, she supposed. An opened letter sat open on a small table next to her, spilling the sparse details of Prince Eric’s engagement to Princess Margaret.

Of course Ursula was unhappy – she had no interest in the prince’s happiness, only in his power. Anyone with half a brain could figure out that the ball was a thinly-veiled excuse for the prince to find a wife, so Ursula thought it was safe to assume there was no engagement underway. She had watched him the whole night – he hadn’t spoken with any other woman for more than twenty minutes! He even snuck out of the ballroom for a little while, presumably to avoid them all. There’s no way this was an arrangement of love.

Which gave Ursula pause to think. Most definitely the engagement was arranged and secured politically, but whoever was marrying into the crown was not doing it thanks to any love or favor from the prince. Ursula could not likely hope to replace whichever girl was chosen, but maybe she could have her way regardless…

As she was still a high-ranking woman, she did have connections within the palace – and her servants knew some of the royal servants. She rose and tugged on the rope to summon her maids.

“Yes?” Ms. Flotsam slid in, followed quite closely by Ms. Jetsam.

Ursula found the pair quite odd; while they were perfectly in sync the two had never known of each other before they both came under her employment. Ms. Flotsam was blind in her left eye and wore a patch over it, and Ms. Jetsam wore spectacles as she could not see otherwise. Both were tall and slender, with long necks and thin fingers. They were unmarried and both 43; one was a widow and one never married.

Both were always joined at the hip, discussing things in low tones and giving sideways glances to any of the other servants. This unnerved Ursula a bit, as it always seemed as though they were plotting, though no one could be quite sure as to what they were exactly planning to do.

“Ladies,” Ursula said, sitting up straight. “I need you to do some research for me.”

“Yes?” They said, together, unsettling Ursula a bit more.

“Prince Eric has recently become engaged to a Princess Margaret, of Glauerhaven. Please, find any information that you can.”

“Of course, Duchess.”

“We will do all we can.”

With two quick curtseys, they were gone. Ursula settled back, winding her fingers together.

…

Eric and Ariel scarcely went a day without seeing each other over the summer, and the few times that it had to happen Eric had sent a quick note to let her know. Now, it had been three whole days with no contact of any kind.

The first day, Ariel was not too concerned. Perhaps he had gotten caught up in something, or maybe the note missed her house. The second day, Ariel became a little stressed – had something happened to him? If he was sick, no one would think to tell her. As far as she knew, no one else knew of their courtship, so it would be reasonable to assume that she would’ve be privy to any details of his life, unless he himself was able to share them.

But the sun was setting on the third day, and Ariel began to find growing concern towards other things. He hadn’t even been sneezing last time she saw him, it was probably quite unlikely that he was sick. Besides, most people caught ill in the winter, or early in the spring when they grew too confident in the temperate weather. It had only just turned to fall!

While _she_ had never said it to _him_ , Eric had never told her that he loved her. He had said many times that he enjoyed her company, or that he thought she was pretty, or that he liked her a lot, he had never mentioned love.

She sometimes had kicked herself for not telling him that she loved him, but for the first time since she met Eric, she felt more assured for it. It was becoming clear that, perhaps, he did not feel the same way. Maybe their love was just supposed to be a passion; maybe they were just supposed to be together for the summer. And, well, summer was over now.

Perhaps, summer had ended that night she came late, nervous and jumpy and unsure of exactly what she wanted from him; what she wanted with him. All of their time together had been secret – even their first meeting was away from crowds and supervisory eyes, tucked up high away. All of their time had been them close and touching, and when Ariel stopped that, when she made it so clear she wasn’t ready to go further, maybe that was the end. As soon as she stopped fulfilling any physical desires, maybe it was time for their arrangement to taper off.

Yes, she had seen him after that, but maybe that was the time he needed to realize he didn’t have any _real_ feelings for her. Maybe he was hoping she’d change her mind. Maybe he was distancing himself slowly to make her feel better, or at least make her think he wasn’t a terrible person. Ariel bit her lip and fell back onto her bed. He couldn’t have been lying to her this whole summer. Yes, he never said that he loved her but there had to be more than just passion in this relationship. She loved him as a person, a whole person. Eric wasn’t just a summer fling to her.

Ariel flung herself onto her stomach and balled her pillow up under her chest. She wanted to cry, she wanted to yell, she wanted to march herself over to the palace and demand an explanation. But it seemed that no matter what she did, it would be wrong. If she cried, surely someone would hear or walk in and demand to know what was wrong, and she’d either have to tell them or lie. She wasn’t sure which was worse. Same for yelling, and either of those would work her up to the point she’d _have_ to go march over.

If she marched over to the castle, she would either find out that Eric had some sort of great excuse, like a national emergency that he very reasonably had prioritize over spending time with her. Or, she would find out that someone she was in love with…wasn’t in love with her. And didn’t care about her enough to even explain why he didn’t want to see her anymore.

Ariel sniffled and rubbed her nose on the back of her sleeve. She was a fool for letting herself fall like this, especially with someone who was a prince. Sure, her family was rich, and she enjoyed a place of prominence in the community, but Eric probably had to marry a princess. No matter what prominence or privilege her family had, she was still only a citizen. Maybe he was just passing the time with her, maybe he dated a new girl every summer. What girl could possibly look at him and not want him?

She didn’t really regret the summer, and she still loved him, but if anyone had asked her, she would’ve said exactly the opposite.

…

There was a hesitant _rap-rap-rap_ on the door, heard only by Adella, Artista, and Andrina, all of whom sat in the parlor room closest to the front door. All three girls continued on with their respective projects, assuming one of the maids would be along to answer it. And why didn’t the guest just ring the doorbell? It would make it hard for the servants to hear.

It came again, even louder – _rap-rap-rap!_

“You get it.” Artista said, not to any sister in particular. All that mattered was that she wasn’t the one going.

“No, I’m working.” Adella said matter-of-factly, pulling the needle through her embroidery scene.

“We’re all working.” Andrina corrected, blending her drawing with her thumb. “But I’m also supporting Adella with my legs. She’s weighing me down, sorry.” Andrina pushed her knees forward to bump her sister.

“Here, I can move!” Adella snipped, sitting up to remove the obstacle from her sister’s ability to get the door. “Now-“

“Oh Adella, you’re already up. Just go get the door.” Artista said with the same saccharine sweetness that one only uses when they aren’t _actually_ being kind.

Adella stuck out her tongue at her sister and huffed as she stood and flung her embroidery hoop down onto the sofa. “Fine. But I’m not getting it next time.”

Andrina shrugged. _We’ll see, but whatever makes you feel better._

Adella shook out her skirts and smoothed back as she headed to the door. She didn’t know of anyone who was supposed to be calling now, or today at all, really. Daddy and Attina were at the store, as always, but Alana was with them today so if there was anything that needed to be fetched or delivered she most certainly would’ve been sent to do it – and there was no reason for her to use the formal entrance for that, or even to knock.

It was a peculiar time as well – eight in the morning. Many people would still be having breakfast. Awfully bold of this person to assume that they were done eating, even if it was true. Stiffly, Adella opened the door ready to give this person a piece of her mind.

As soon as she opened the door, her jaw dropped.

“Hello.” Prince Eric – _the_ Prince Eric, the prince of the kingdom, Eric, the man who ran the kingdom, the Prince, _yes_ him, I genuinely can’t make it any clearer, Prince Eric was standing there. Prince Eric was at her home, _speaking_ to her.

“H-hello.” Adella said, swooning a little.

“Is Ariel home?” Eric asked, looking over her shoulder a little.

“I’m not sure. She’s kind of hard to keep track of.” Adella joked while batting her eyelashes.

Eric gave her a thin smile, pressing his lips together. “Could you check? I could also go look, if it’s an imposition. I’d really like to speak to her.”

Adella so desperately wanted to berate him with questions. How do you know Ariel? What are you going to speak to her about? When did you meet her? Was it at the ball? Did you dance – I didn’t see you guys dance? Why are you here now? Do you like Ariel? If not, have you noticed how good my hair looks today? Would you like to go on a walk with me?

But it would’ve been quite rude to berate anyone with these questions, but unspeakably rude to berate the prince.

“I don’t think she’s left the property today, so she’s either in her room, in the garden, or in the shed. I can take you up to her room and if she’s not there, I can escort you to the yard.”

“Thank you.” Eric breathed, almost tangibly nervous.

“Come, your highness.” Adella bobbed a quick curtsey and began to lead him upstairs.

Andrina poked her head out of the room to see who the mysterious guest was, and her own mouth dropped open upon spotting the prince. Adella stuck out her tongue at her – that’s what you get for not answering the door yourself, lazy girl. Andrina continued staring at her sister and the prince as they trotted upstairs. Boys weren’t allowed in their room, but did princes count? Andrina wasn’t quite sure if her father needed to yet know this fact.

Adella pushed open the double doors to the room, where seven beds lined the windowed walls, interspaced with seven side-tables, and with seven trunks and the foots of the bed. The room was a bit untidy, messier near _some_ (Andrina!) beds than others, but there were no other humans in it.

“Not here.” Adella shrugged, thinking she had earned a question. “What are you looking for her for?”

Eric looked clearly uncomfortable.

“I just mean, uh, do we need to hunt her down now, or could you leave a note, or…?” Adella tried to explain. That was part of her reason for asking, though only part.

“I would…very strongly prefer to speak with Ariel in person. And right now, if she’s here. If she’s available at all.”

“Oh, I’m sure she is.” Adella said. She fake-stumbled a little, hoping Prince Eric would offer her his arm as support, but he was either too preoccupied or she righted herself too quickly, because he didn’t seem to even notice her little stunt. Huffing a little, she took him down the stairs, through the back hallways, and out to the gardens.

It would be terribly unladylike to yell and, regardless of his oblivious nature, Adella did like the feeling of being out with Prince Eric. So, she took him around the gardens slowly, starting with the least likely areas first, and avoiding Ariel’s favorite spots. They would come across her in time, if she was even in fact here.

“Ariel?” Eric eventually called out.

The pair paused, there was silence, then a rustling. “Yes?” a voice responded.

Eric had no regard for Adella, and pushed forward without waiting for her, towards the little alcove where the voice came from. Trees were all around her, and there was a wooden structure that supported thick, flowered vines overhead. A wooden bench was seated amongst some flowers and atop that wooden bench was Ariel, sitting with her head bowed and a picked-clean daisy in her hands. _He loves me, he loves me not…_

“Could you please excuse us, miss?” Eric asked as sweetly as he could, while still retaining any possible authority.

Adella looked as though she wanted to object for a moment, but she smiled and gave a slight nod. “Of course, your highness.”

“Thank you.” Eric breathed, turning his back on the girl and standing in the flowered doorway.

“So, you’ve come to say goodbye, I wager?” Ariel said bitterly.

Eric’s stomach dropped. He knew she wouldn’t be happy, he could only hope that she’d understand why he hadn’t even sent word these past few days. That trial paled in comparison to the true issue – having to tell her that he’s already engaged.

“Do you hate me?” Eric blurted out, not even meaning to start with that question. He wasn’t quite sure where he had procured it from.

Ariel finally looked up at him. “No, though you make it hard.”

“Can I come sit by you?”

“I suppose.” Ariel shrugged, flinging the flower stem to the ground. She folded her blue dress beneath her thighs, tucking it in so Eric would have somewhere to sit that wasn’t on top of her outfit.

Eric had never been so nervous in his life, and such a phrase can be said without exaggeration. “I’m sorry I didn’t write to you, or see you these past few days.”

“If you’re breaking up with me, I’d rather you didn’t preface it with niceties.” Ariel snapped.

“No!” Eric burst out. _Shit_. He was breaking up with her, he just didn’t want to. It was a very clear and important difference, and now he had given Ariel hope he didn’t have the right to give. At this rate, he’d be lucky if she didn’t curse his name in every prayer and despise him with every fiber of her being by the end of the conversation.

“Then tell me why you dropped me like that!” Ariel shoved his shoulder, turning towards him.

“I’m-I’m sorry.” Eric stammered.

“Good!” Ariel folded one arm over the back at the bench and stared at him angrily.

Eric dipped his head down, not even wanting to look to her. “Ariel, I don’t want to sugarcoat this, but please let me explain.”

“Eric, did something happen? Is everything okay?” Ariel asked, the tone of her voice softening.

“No, no it’s not.” Eric shook his head vigorously.

Ariel furrowed her brow and tried to read Eric’s grave expression. “Did…did someone die?”

“No.” Eric said flatly, still shaking his head.

“Did…did _I_ do something?” Ariel asked, and she was looking at him with those big blue eyes and _of course_ she did nothing wrong, why would she even think that? Didn’t she know that he loved her? Couldn’t she tell?

“No, Ariel! God,” Eric finally turned his body to face her. “This is the most selfish thing I’m ever going to do, but please,” he reached his hand out to touch her cheek, and sighed when she let her face fall into his hand. “please let me kiss you.”

Ariel did not question his statement or ask for clarification, and leaned forward. Eric made the most of her too-temporary forgiveness. He twined his arms around her and pulled her closer, up onto his lap. He tried not to think of the moments that were coming, for this was the last time he’d ever be able to touch her like this. How was he going to live without her?

Ariel was the one who broke the kiss. “Tell me.” She said, only an inch from his face.

“I’m engaged.”

Ariel’s mouth dropped open in horror and she pushed herself off his lap and to the other side of the bench. “What?” she yelled at him.

“Not until several days ago!” Eric tried to add the very important details quickly, before she became too disgusted with him to stay. “I promise, I was never cheating on you or cheating with you.”

“But you were seeing another person.” Ariel spat. “Someone you clearly cared about, if you’re gonna go ahead and marry them!”

“It’s not like that!-“

“Oh, of course it isn’t.” Ariel rolled her eyes. “At least respect me enough to tell me the truth. You just wanted to spend your last summer as a bachelor kissing any girl who would go moony over you, and you accomplished that. Now the summer is over, so it’s time for you to settle down with your wife.”

“I don’t know her, I don’t love her.” Eric said, voice choking. “I still haven’t contacted her. The marriage was arranged for me, I gave that power to someone before I met you because I didn’t know I was going to meet someone like _you_ -“

“Save it!” Ariel snapped, looking away – but not before Eric could see that tears were forming in her eyes.

“And I didn’t contact you once I knew because I was trying to find a way out of it, and when I learned there was no way I tried to figure out how to tell you.”

“So, you came here and made me think that everything was fine again, and you told me no, we weren’t breaking up, and then you kissed me and held me again, and now you’re trying to tell me that this was hard for you? Difficult to come here and do that? You’ll get no sympathy from me!”

“Yes, it was difficult! Because I don’t want to end things with you, because I can’t stop thinking about you, because I want to see you always.” Instinctively, Eric leaned towards her, trying to bridge any physical space, but Ariel looked away and Eric scooted back. “I’m sorry.” He said, for everything. “I know that it won’t help, or fix anything, and if you can think of any way out of this, any way in which we can be together, assuming you can even still stand me, please, please, tell me. I hate this situation so much, Ariel. I know I can never love this woman, not when I’ve known you like I do.”

Ariel let out a shuttering breath and balled her hands up, putting her palms to her eyes. He wanted to take it all back, of course he did – he didn’t even want to say it in the first place! There was nothing he wanted less than to have to hurt and leave this girl, but he still sat here next to her, taking a bullet for his country.

“Please,” Eric said, not finishing the sentence because he didn’t know what he was asking. Almost any change to the situation would be an improvement.

“Go!” Ariel screamed, throwing her hands down.

Eric’s heart stopped. He knew this conversation would be hard, but he was hoping, practically assuming, that once Ariel knew the two could talk and plan and come to some sort of quasi-solution. “Ariel…” he said softly. “Please.”

“Go! Get out of here!”

“No, Ariel. I won’t leave you.”

“You already have!” Ariel wailed, giving up any pretense of covering her tears. “You’re someone’s fiancé now, Eric, and this past summer means nothing now. Nothing else matters besides the fact that you’re engaged.”

“It does, I promise it does. Eric said. “And if I was only responsible to myself, I would have rejected it at all costs. But I also have to protect the country. If I don’t marry this girl, it’ll likely bring war. I can’t tear apart hundreds of families and kill so many young people just because _I love you_.”

Ariel let out another loud sob at the last three words. He loved her, she loved him, but it meant nothing.

“Please, Ariel. Please understand. Please know that I love you.”

Ariel said nothing, but kept crying.

Eric leaned closer to her again, and put a hand on her shoulder. “I love you.” He put his other hand on her knees to turn her towards him. “I can’t be parted from you forever, I love you.”

Ariel kept crying, too hard to possibly form words. Eric slid his hand down the side of her torso, watching carefully for any sign of recoil, any sign that she couldn’t bear to be touched by him anymore. He pulled her up against his chest and let her cry into his linen shirt. “I love you,” he repeated, as though that would change the situation. “I love you, I love you, I love you.”

Eric softly rested his chin on the top of her hair, exhaling a little. Even as miserable as they both were, it was something to be here, holding her. He didn’t speak, only occasionally mumbling a slurred ‘I love you’ again, too afraid to brooch a topic that would set her off crying harder or ruin everything beyond repair.

In time, Ariel’s crying calmed down to soft hiccups and sharp breaths, and Eric squeezed her in a semi-hug. She pushed back and Eric released his arms as she backed off of touching him completely. She starred at him, daggers in her eyes, and Eric braced himself for any amount of anger she may throw at him. Ariel took a deep breath in and then shot forward to kiss him again.

Whatever Ariel would’ve wanted or asked for, Eric would not have denied her now, but he especially would not deny her _this_. He ran his fingers through her soft hair, let his hand trail up and down her arm, appreciating her soft skin. Her dress was silk, she had shifted her weight on top of him and pressed herself as close as she could, like the two had molded together.

And then, she bit him. Hard.

“Ow!” Eric exclaimed, jumping back and touching his lip. He looked at his fingers. Blood. He eyes flicked up to Ariel.

“Go.” She commanded, her voice low and deadly. “I hate you, Eric. I know you don’t love me, so I don’t love you either. It was cruel of you to try and make me think any differently, to come here today in order to leave me pining for you while you go off and marry your princess. Hopefully these antics will stop once you’re settled, for her sake more than yours.” She sneered, looking away from him.

“Ariel, no!” Eric had to make her understand. He didn’t know how he could go back to the castle without Ariel at least understanding that he didn’t want to leave, that he was suffering here too. “I mean it, I swear. I would end the engagement if there was any way how.”

“Go!” Ariel said again, more loudly this time. “I didn’t kiss you because I wanted to, I kissed you because I didn’t want our final kiss to be one with any nice memories. You’ve sucked any sweetness out of me, Eric, I hope you’re happy.”

“Ariel, please!”

“Get out.” She slid off of him and stood, putting as much space between them as possible.

“I love you.” Eric pled, still planted on the bench, looking up at her. “There’s nothing you can say to me that will stop me from loving you.”

“Go!” Ariel spat, folding her arms and turning around. She waited for an argument, a rebuttal, but Eric must’ve realized she was tired and that he had successfully ended their arrangement, for when she turned around again, he was gone.

…

“Here, pack this up!” Margaret’s mother, Queen Agatha, dangled a silk petticoat.

“I’m getting to it, mother.” Margaret continued sorting her things.

“The least you could do was let the servants help. We’re departing in an hour, no matter how ready you are.” Her mother lightly scolded.

“Mom, please.” Her daughter said sadly.

Agatha softened. “Now, daughter, take heart.” She walked over and cupped her daughter’s chin softly. “This is a good match, and so many women don’t have the privileges you do. You’ve met your future husband, you’ve been allowed to reach the age of twenty-three before marrying, which is when-“

“Most women have already had several children, I know.” Margaret sank down onto her bed.

“And, don’t tell your father I said this, but I think you’re doing a great service to both of our countries. We’ve been to war so many times.”

“Just ten years ago, even.”

“Yes.” Her mother nodded. “Your father is essentially handing that country over to you to manage. As long as you and Eric are married, as long as you’re fond of the land, there’s going to be no reason to attack.”

“And what if I want to attack?” Margaret made an attempt at a joke.

“Please take this seriously, daughter.” Agatha said gravely. “We, your father and I, trust your judgement and maturity and will do what you say in respect to Prince Eric’s land. But with that power, means your decision need that much more consideration. I would not make such jokes.”

“Yes, mother.”

“Good. Make haste – there is still a bit more to pack before we go. The voyage is short, but it is a one-way trip.”

“But…I know this is stupid, but what if Eric doesn’t like me?” Margaret wrapped her arms around her stomach, an impulse she had had ever since someone first pointed out she carried fat there.

Agatha smiled at her daughter, and sank down next to her. “It’s a political marriage, Margaret. You don’t exactly love him now either. And arranged marriages all unfortunately come with a bit of fear – I know I felt it too, before I married your father. I didn’t know if I’d like him, or the palace, or the country. But I do. Things were awkward at first, infuriating at times, and I confess I did once write my mother begging me to let me come home.”

Margaret giggled a little at this.

“And our situations are a bit different. We were married to each other because each of us needed a spouse. You are being married for an alliance. But, if anyone can handle that, it’s you Margaret.”

Margaret conceded with a shrug. “I hope so.”

“I know so. Now quick, pack. I’ll call in the servants. We are leaving soon.”

…

She hated that she had cried into his chest like that, like she was a petulant child rebelling against a punishment or being told ‘no’. He didn’t deserve her vulnerability, he didn’t deserve to touch her. He was just a prince dipping into the common rabble before marrying his perfect princess. Ariel had moved to her shed, looking up at the portrait of her mother. Several days had passed since their breakup, but Ariel still stewed over this with such anger that she didn’t know if she’d ever shake it.

“Oh mom,” she asked the portrait. “why did this have to happen? I love him, I do, I don’t know if I’ll ever be able to not love him.”

Ariel sighed and rolled onto her back, looking at the ceiling. “I wish I hadn’t gotten so angry. I felt like I couldn’t control myself. It just hurts so much.” Ariel felt tears start to well up and one rolled out of her eye and down the side of her head. “I don’t think he really didn’t care about me…” she said, practically mumbling. “Of course he’s prioritizing the country, right? That’s just the type of man Eric is. Everyone before him. Country before self. I always admired it, until today I guess.” She laughed without humor.

“He must hate me now.” She pulled her knees up to her chest. “But it doesn’t matter. I’ve never going to be able to see him again, because I know I’ll just die if I do. He’ll never be coming back around here. I’m afraid I made quite sure of that.”

Ariel rubbed her face with her palms. “I wish I had more time to process everything. I was just so livid, how could I have said anything else? If we could talk again…oh no. It can’t be. Everything is just ruined, because he had to be a prince, didn’t he?”

She didn’t think she was quite ready to be married yet, the whole prospect seemed daunting and foreign – even Attina was not quite engaged! Marriage was still seen as something for the future, when she was older and wiser and…and in love. The last part mattered the least, apparently.

The shed had no fire and no room to install a fireplace, so Ariel was bundled up like a newborn babe, in a heavy dress and two blankets. She looked up at the softly-gazing portrait of her mother.

“I wish I could know what you’d do. I wish I could tell anyone else.”

But the chill of winter was coming closer, and Ariel knew she couldn’t stay too much longer out here. She wouldn’t get the answers she needed out here, anyway.

…

Princess Margaret pulled into port not even a week after departing, her voyage safe and sound. For just a moment, Eric thought that that was a damn shame, but scolded himself instantly upon thinking such a cruel, terrible thought. This situation wasn’t her fault any more than it was his, or at least it was the fault of their respective guardians.

He stood at the end of the pier as she disembarked, after a flurry of servants carrying her things. He made a joke to himself about how she seemed to be a bit of an over-packer, before reality set in that she wasn’t over-packing – she was moving in. His castle was her home now, in practice if not officially.

“Prince Eric,” she said, once she had finally gotten close enough to him.

“I believe we should be on first name terms, Margaret.”

“Well, if that’s what my fiancé wishes.” Margaret said, a little coyly.

Eric wanted to run away. “May I show you to your room?”

Margaret gave a slight nod and walked behind him. He walked a little too quickly for her to keep up at a natural walking pace, so she studied the back of his head and wished she could have a bit more of his attention. She tried to be understanding, but it was a bit annoying for him to be so aloof. Even if he didn’t like the arrangement, he had agreed to it, so they should both just suck it up and make the most of it.

Stepping into the castle, Margaret felt very small. It was far larger than her home, and entirely unfamiliar.

“Your room is upstairs. Let me know if anything is not to your liking and I’ll have it fixed.”

“Thank you.” Margaret mumbled, barely loud enough for Eric to register.

She held very tightly to her purse as she walked up the large stares, trying not to feel distressed at the stares of each servant as she passed. They were all so quiet, a few lightly bobbing curtseys or nodding their head. But no one seemed to think it appropriate to greet her, or to walk up to her. It was probably just formality, she tried to assure herself of this, but it just felt like coldness. She already didn’t particularly want to be here, but it’d certainly help if she was at least wanted.

Margaret wondered how much they knew about her. Presumably everyone in the castle knew she was coming, but there was no discussion yet as to when the engagement would be formally announced. That was another issue to contend with later – a pitifully small issue considering that there was so much to do and so much at stake with her marriage to Eric.

There had already been enough of awkwardness, enough of fighting – why she was old enough to remember the last time her country and Eric’s had been to war! Even if she wasn’t, she had been reminded of the tense relations between their counties so many times it was impossible for her to be ignorant of the fact. She hoped so dearly that the public would be willing to put that aside, and get to know her as Margaret, rather than as the princess of Glauerhaven.

“Will this do?” Eric asked, pushing open the doors to her bedroom.

Margaret walked in slowly, clutching her purse very tightly. The room was certainly lovely – it was painted light blue, with high ceilings and big windows. There was a large bed with white curtains, and several very lovely dressers. And, most importantly, it looked like no one else stayed in here. Though she knew it wouldn’t have happened in her country, she was a little afraid that she would be expected to share a space with her fiancé, even before they were married. But no, it seemed that would come after marriage.

With a shuttering breath, Margaret turned to look at the man she would spend the rest of her life with. “It’s lovely, Eric. Thank you.”

“Great.” Eric gave her a curt nod and thin smile. “I’m sure you’re tired, I’ll let you rest and get settled in.”

Margaret watched him turn and leave, before the two had discussed anything or learned anything about each other. As the door shut behind him, she walked over to the largest window, looking out over the kingdom she would soon be introduced to, and become responsible for. Putting a hand to her forehead, she felt tears start to roll down her cheeks.

…

Eric woke up early in the morning and ran out to the sea. He pulled off his boots and his shirt and dove in to swim. He swam out and tried to focus on his stokes and kicking and anything but the fact that he was deeply in love with a girl who was livid with him. Who may never forgive him. Who had said that she hated him.

Eric could’ve gone to the most public and popular of beaches and would’ve still found himself alone. The water was frigid, and it was far beyond the point where it would be reasonable to swim. But Eric needed every physical stimulus possible to shake him from his despair. He had been spending time with Margaret, he had been running the kingdom, he had been out in town and by himself at home. He had been doing anything in power to put himself back into the proper mindset – his first duty was to his kingdom. His most important duty. He was afforded incredibly power and privilege in exchange for bearing the brunt of any conflict or responsibility. There was no burden so great he would shrug off the kingdom – even if it meant breaking his own heart, and the heart of the girl he loved.

If only there was any option, any loophole. Eric would take it, no matter the personal expense. But, ah, that was the key. He would suffer any personal blows or pain, and he would do so without hesitation or remorse. But as soon as innocent civilians were in danger or even at risk…that was more than Eric was willing to ask of anyone. Asking people to go to war was demanding the greatest possible sacrifice, but Eric would do it if it meant defending the nation or bringing about a greater good. But not for his own personal needs.

He had come to terms with labeling Ariel as such – she was a need to him, and every day he had to go without her, every day he had to remember how she had bit him and said that she hated him, every day he had to know she said these things, not because she meant them, but because he had hurt her so badly she could only think to react by hurting him too. Eric had selfishly hoped that perhaps, with time and distance, his attachment to Ariel would die out. That maybe, in his inexperience and naiveite, he was wrong about what love felt like and was, in fact, only infatuated with Ariel.

No, instead he only grew to love her more in her absence. He found himself thinking of her constantly, wondering what she was doing and thinking, and if she had perhaps thought of him in their time apart too. He knew the short term separation, devastating though it was, would be easy compared to what was to come. Because no matter what, he was engaged to Margaret. And he would have to marry her and run the kingdom. And, even if, by some miracle, Ariel loved him and wanted him still, in time she would come to terms with the fact that they could never be together. And she would move on. She would love again and marry another, and perhaps even bear children.

Eric would hear of her again once he was older and the summer had faded as much as it possibly could. Perhaps when he was fifty or so, news would come round that Ariel had won some rowing or dancing contest, or that one of her children had done something impressive, and she’d come up in conversation. Only then would he be able to know what happened to her, rather than finding out with her every step of her life.

He’d hear sentences like ‘oh yes, that Ariel Triton, I forget what her married name is. She saved a man from drowning when that rickety old bridge caved in.’ or ‘Yes, she had ten children, and all survived! An incredible feat.’

And he’d have to nod and smile and brush it off like he didn’t need more, want more. How strange to be so young and yet know the outcome of such an important part of his life. And how depressing to know he could never be happy in his own marriage, a marriage he had agreed to. His people would never know what he sacrificed for them.

…

Margaret was not in the kingdom a week before she received an invitation, from a Duchess Ursula who compelled her to come to tea. It read more as an order than an invitation, but Margaret assumed that maybe that was just normal here, or at least to the one issuing the invitation. As this Ursula was such a high-ranking woman in the kingdom Margaret must learn to rule, she supposed she had no ability to refuse her, despite how much she’d love to recuperate and rest.

So, the next day she pulled her hair up and put on a nice dress, and borrowed a carriage – was borrowed even the appropriate word? They weren’t married yet, were his things hers yet? – in order to take off towards Ursula’s small manor.

Two unsettling maids in dusty blue uniforms opened the door, offering to escort the princess to the room where Ursula was waiting for her. The house was dimly lit but had clearly been quite the sight, though that must’ve been a while ago. They walked down a long, narrow hallway, as Margaret once more found herself following and looking at the backs of the maids’ heads. They walked in tandem, shoulder to shoulder, giving Margaret no room to walk with them.

Eventually, they turned into a purple-ish room, where a plump, white-haired woman sat.

“Margaret, welcome.” Ursula smiled, ignoring the princess’ title and even refusing to stand.

Margaret wondered if it would be rude to correct her. She decided to pick her battles, and dropped this one. “Hello, Ursula.” Maybe they were all on first name terms here.

“It’s Duchess Ursula, actually.” The woman flashed a smile.

Then again, maybe they weren’t.

“My apologies, duchess.” Margaret said meekly.

“Now, please, sit!” Ursula gestured to the seat right by her. “Now, I’m sure you’re curious as to why I wanted to meet with you so quickly after your arrival.”

“I wouldn’t suppose you’re heading up the welcoming committee?”

Ursula laughed, two quick staccatos, clearly only humoring the princess. Margaret regretted speaking at all, and merely accepted the tea that was handed to her by one of the eerie blue-clad maids.

“Not quite, dear.” Ursula said, stirring sugar into her tea. “But I’m sure, even in your limited time here, you realize that you’ve signed yourself up for quite a lot.”

“What do you mean?”

“Well, of course being queen is already quite demanding, but it will be even worse for you, because you won’t be allowed to be human. The townspeople will know you came from Glauerhaven, and automatically doubt you. At the worst, it’ll be seen as an invasion, for such a…hostile, if you’ll forgive me, country to send a princess over here to rule us. Foreign princesses are always suspected, but your country has killed quite a few of our citizens, if you’ll remember.”

Margaret suddenly felt extremely foolish. How had she not considered this? Sure, she knew there’d be some awkwardness with her being a foreign princess, but she didn’t think anyone would categorize her marriage so aggressively. Her parents had gone on so long about how this marriage would mend things, she forgot that not everyone would see it from that perspective. It would be only reasonable to expect that people would distrust her intentions, and push back more harshly on any decision she must make.

“If you want any respect from your people, though, naturally, you already have mine,” Ursula lied. “you will have to be a flawless queen. Empathetic, poised, strong, kind, clever, and always ten steps ahead.”

Ursula watched as the color began to slowly drain from Margaret’s face, as she so hoped it would. Margaret pulled out her fan and began wafting cool air over her face.

“You don’t look well, dear.” Ursula said with saccharine sweetness.

“I’m fine.” Margaret said breathily.

“But I suppose that brings me to what I really wanted to get to.” Ursula continued, without offering Margaret any help or refreshment. “I believe I am in a unique position to help such a young queen as yourself.”

“What do you mean?” Margaret said, furrowing her brow.

“First, I must stress the importance of confidentiality.” Ursula said. “If anyone thought that you were incapable of the job, you’d be ousted from the throne more quickly that I could snap my fingers.”

Margaret, burning with curiosity, nodded. How bad of a secret could an old woman have?

Ursula produced a small box from beside her chair and opened it on her lap, holding up a small bottle – it couldn’t have held more than three ounces of liquid. “This potion will make you into the greatest queen possible – it will sharpen your mind, improve your focus, allow for your most likeable traits to come into focus, and increase your grace and poise.”

_It’s a wonder she doesn’t take some of this herself_ Margaret silently quipped, but still eyed the bottle. She had heard of witches and potion-brewers, and despite how she may have sometimes framed it, she had always thought something like that could be true. And, what if it was? What if this potion would give Margaret what she needed to properly function as a queen, to heal the relations between her old and new country, just as everyone seemed to be expecting her to do?

“What is in it?” she asked.

“Oh, trade secrets my dear. I’m sure you understand.” Ursula replied with a smile so sweet and voice so calm that Margaret couldn’t find it within herself to doubt the old woman.

“Why are you offering this to me?”

“I was hoping we could help each other.” Ursula smiled. “You could help my options finally be heard, and I can ensure that you won’t be rejected by the country.”

Margaret balked at the sudden harsh language, but Duchess Ursula was right. The odds were quite against her, but if this potion was half of what the duchess promised, it would certainly help her to survive, and maybe even excel in her upcoming position.

“That’s all?” Margaret asked, and instantly regretted showing her hand like that. Maybe she really did need this potion.

“That’s all.” Ursula smiled.

Margaret bit her lip and looked down. There would be no benefit for the woman to poison her – she hadn’t been in the kingdom long enough for the people to hate her. If the duchess was going to kill her, she would be killing the beloved Prince Eric’s fiancée, not a foreign invader princess. And the motives seemed clear enough – she had probably lost influence as she aged, and ached for it back.

“Alright.” Margaret gave a curt nod. “You have a deal.”

“Splendid!” Ursula exclaimed, handing her the bottle. “You’ll need to drink this every week, so you’ll have to come back here to get it. And-“ Ursula pulled out a necklace with an orb-shaped charm on the end. “you’ll have to wear this. It helps.”

Ursula didn’t explain the true context of the orb necklace – that it would allow Ursula to see and hear whatever Margaret saw and heard. But Ursula had already given Margaret all the information she needed to conform to her plan, so why on earth would she share more? Ursula watched as the girl slid the thin chain over her head and around her neck, and smiled when she drank the bottle of potion.

Every week, the princess – the queen, soon enough – would have to come back and do whatever Ursula wished in order to get her next bottle of potion. If all worked as Ursula hoped and planned, Margaret would soon believe she couldn’t possibly manage her marriage and country without the assistance of the potion. It didn’t matter that it was a potion for grace, spiced with a little nutmeg. It didn’t matter that it was a lie, because Ursula didn’t care that it was.

              And now, thanks to Margaret’s weakness, all that would matter is what Ursula cared about.

She dismissed the girl.

…

Ariel resented herself for this, but she soon found her daydreams drifting to Eric again. She couldn’t sustain the idea of hating him, but she quite easily continued to hate the situation they were in. If he was telling the truth about the engagement being so last minute, and he probably was, then he couldn’t have told her any earlier. If he told her as soon as it happened, that would mean he hadn’t fought against it at all, or not with any real purpose. Ariel figured that would’ve been worse.

Their summer courtship was warm and perfect, an open meadow on a just-too-hot day. Everything was easy because that summer there was only that summer. It didn’t matter if they had lovely before, there was no discussion if they would ever love again. Not once had Eric brought up being queen or taking her hand. He just gripped it tightly as he pulled her through those too-short months, ending them both here. If Ariel could have put her shoulder up against time and shoved it back, she would’ve.

She was still unsure about the idea of marrying, but if anyone could’ve brought her around to it, it would’ve been Eric. Because with Eric, unlike so many other matches, she wouldn’t have had to give up being herself. It would’ve come with a new dynamic and new responsibilities, but Ariel would’ve still been able to try new things and go new places, and that was important to her.

Now was not the time for her to wed, but she had to start coming to terms with the fact that it would be in just a handful of years. No matter what she wanted, or how much she loved Eric still, they had to be separated. In time, another man would come round and propose and in order to keep everyone happy she would have no choice but to accept him, lest she become a burden to her family.

These thoughts filled her with great sadness, but they always turned to a wonderful daydream of her and Eric, back in their meadow or out on the beach. There, she didn’t have to face the harsh realities too soon. They would come, but until they caught up to her she lived inside of her own head.

…

In truth, Margaret would’ve just rather gone to the nunnery.

Her mother threatened to send to one once many years ago when she was only twelve. Margaret was supposed to meet with a king some ten years her senior, to see about arranging a marriage for when she got older, but she quite adamantly refused to go, going to such lengths as hiding, running away, and screaming at the top of her lungs. Overwhelmed and frustrated, her mother had clasped her shoulders and yelled ‘if you don’t learn to behave, I’ll send you off to the nunnery!’. It started Margaret profoundly, unaware that she could simply be…sent away like that. However, those threats quickly stopped when Margaret had taken some time to consider the prospects and realized that a nunnery wouldn’t be too bad.

To be at peace, to dedicate her life to something beyond herself, to have time to read and to relax and to rest all seemed rather wonderful and at only thirteen Margaret announced that she would like to do such that. Her mother was appalled at the idea, and her father stressed that she was needed for the sake of establishing and strengthen their country. And as such, she was denied the very thing she was threatened with.

Implored by her family, Margaret backed down and agreed to continue helping the country – but she would not be marrying anyone that much older than her.

It was a bit funny now, actually, to think she threw such a fight only about marrying someone older, when Eric was much younger than her. Hey, at least her family listened in some respect, even if it was only in the most literal.  

Prince Eric was nice enough, and they always took dinner together and sometimes did other things. But he was always so distant, probably thinking of his kingdom or his day or anything else. She wished he trusted her enough to confide in her, but she would not be so hypocritical as to press him to, as she could think of nothing she wanted to do less than to tell him her own innermost thoughts.

She kept being assured that in time, in time, in time everything would come together. They’d like each other, fall in love, and rule for the betterment of the country. And, on the scale of a lifetime, very little time had passed – only a few months. But still, the chill in the air was not only from the impending winter, and Margret felt storms come in whenever she looked at her fiancé.

…

Carlotta was hard to find during the day – she was always helping out wherever she was needed, and typically bustling around the castle. At night, it was quite the opposite. Carlotta always retired in the blue parlor with a book and a cup of tea, sitting there until she felt she was done with both the drink and at a natural stopping place in her novel.

Seldom she had visitors, but tonight she heard three sharp raps at the door.

“Come in!” she said in a sing-song voice.

The door was slowly pushed open, and a very meek-looking Eric shuffled in. “Lottie?” he said, and she could hear the tears in his voice.

“Oh, baby boy!” Carlotta said, using a nickname she had dropped some ten-odd years ago.

Eric was too distraught to object. “Can I talk to you?”            

“Of course, honey.” She fussed, putting her book and cup down. “Come here.”

Eric sat on the couch and leaned into Carlotta the same way he did when he was younger. “Lottie…”

“What is it? Tell me what’s wrong, dear.”

“I hate this so much. I feel so stupid for complaining about anything, I know people have it worse.”

“Now, Eric, you cry if you need to. Someone will always have it worse than you, and that statement is true for everyone. Just because you’re quite privileged doesn’t mean you don’t get to be sad.”

“I don’t want to marry Margaret, I know I have to, I know I will, but I don’t _wanna_.” He cried. He felt very much like a child, but he couldn’t keep all of the sadness inside himself forever. If this was how it had to come out, then that was how it must be.

“Why is that, dear?”

“I-I love Ariel. She hates me, she doesn’t know how much I’d give up to have her here with me. She thinks I just used her. We can’t even be friends.”

“Is this the girl you spent time with this summer? Grimsby mentioned an Ariel a while back.” Carlotta wanted so to press him for more details, but he was so upset, and after so many months of separation she could see how deeply he must love her. Besides, forcing him to dredge up the summer would be cruel.

Eric nodded, curling up. “I know my duty is to my country, I know I have to marry Margaret or risk war, and I know I couldn’t play with other people’s lives in that way. But, God, if it was any other situation, if the barrier was monsters or distance or magic, I would do anything to be with her. It’s been months, and I can’t keep her out of my head.”

Carlotta gave Eric a soft hug. “I know it’s hard, honey. But you’ve got to start seeing her in a different light. If you only picture her as the perfect girl from summer, you’ll never get over her. Maybe see her as a friend, as someone from the past. No romantic outings, no attempt at rekindling. See her as a person.”

Eric bit his lip. The only thing worse than missing Ariel was actively trying to get over her. The idea seemed strange to him and he didn’t want to do it.

“I suppose you’re right.” He conceded. He needed to find a way to see Ariel again.

…

Ariel wasn’t up for any company, she needed some time by herself still. She was still stewing, and though her sisters may find it annoying, she wasn’t prioritizing them right now. She had lost a man she loved in a way that earned her no patience or sympathy and damn it, she was going to mourn. So, she took herself out to the stables with the intention to go riding.

She brushed the horse out and went to go find the saddle.

“Ariel.”

Ariel froze. She knew the voices of her family, and she knew that this voice didn’t belong to any of them, or to any girl. She turned around and saw Eric standing in the doorframe.

“Yes?” she said crossly.

“You know I love you, you know I have since I met you.” Eric said, taking long strides towards her.

She furrowed her brow. “Do you?-“

“You know that I do. And you have every right to doubt me and be mad, but has this not been time enough? I’m sick with the idea of not being around you anymore. I haven’t slept a night since we parted in the garden.”

“You don’t mean that.” Ariel said flatly.

“I do. I mean all of it. I’ve written you a hundred letters but sent none of them, out of fear of taking time you’re not willing to give me. How many times have I saddled my horse with the intent of coming here to run away with you? If I thought anyone else could rule the country as well as I could, I would’ve abdicated the throne. I’ve missed your temperament and your temper, how you laugh and the feel of your skin. Please…” Eric stepped as close as he could to her without touching her.

Ariel let out a shuttering sigh, trying to drum up the anxieties that had been dancing in her. She lifted her left hand and placed it on his chest, looking up and giving him a slight nod.

Eric took that cue as all the provocation he needed to cradle her face and kiss her hard. Ariel slipped both hands up his chest and wrapped them around his neck. Eric wrapped his hands around her waist and lifted her up onto a table so he could get himself as close to her as possible.

“I’ve missed you.” Ariel said softly when Eric broke from her lips to kiss her neck, her jawline.

“I love you, Ariel.” Eric said, in between kisses all over her face. “Tell me it’s not over, tell me you love me. We can fix all of this, we can find some sort of solution, if you tell me you love me too.” 

Ariel whimpered and, with a start, woke up from her dream. Her head shot up and she breathed heavily as she eventually settled back down into her pillow and put her hands over her face. It was a dream, it was all a stupid dream. Eric was still engaged and he had to marry her to save this stupid country from stupid war.

Ariel rolled onto her stomach and used any self-control she had to keep her tears in. The last thing she needed was any of her sisters waking up, there was no way she could explain all this, and no part of her wanted to. All that she knew for sure was that she couldn’t go on like this. Something had to change.

…

Margaret studied herself in the mirror. She had been taking the potions and wearing her necklace and, so far, Ursula hadn’t asked for anything. It was a little suspicious but every time Margaret got on that train of thought she stopped herself. No sense in ruining a good thing due to paranoid.

You see, the potions had been working. Margaret had never been so graceful in her life – able to move and glide and dance in ways she had never been able to do before, despite the multitude of lessons. With this poise came a bit of confidence, and the idea that perhaps, just perhaps, she could be queen.

That idea would escape her often and quickly, usually as soon as she interacted with her formal and stiff fiancé. But, thanks to the potions’ incredible strength, the idea would return to her and she would wonder why she had ever doubted Ursula in the first place.

Every week she would return to the duchess’ manor and make small talk with her. Duchess Ursula would ask her small things – about Eric, about how she was settling in, if she was happy. Basically small talk. In time, she would turn the potion over, and comment about how much her necklace was helping. Margaret would nod, thank her, and walk out and Ursula would smile and call out ‘See you next week!’

It really was a lovely system.

…

              _You’re a stupid girl. A stupid, foolish girl._

Ariel cursed herself the whole way to Prince Eric’s castle, but she never once turned her horse around, or even paused to reconsider. He would reject her on sight – _I’m engaged, remember? I’m a prince, remember? What did you think you’d accomplish by coming here?_

Some sort of absolution. A point of no return. Either they would find a way to be in each other’s lives again, or Ariel would have all the rejection she needed to start to form another chapter in her life.

She knew where the barns were and tied her horse off there, praying no one would notice the one extra horse and start asking questions. Picking up her skirts, she walked quickly and decidedly towards the castle, hoping anyone who might spot her would think that she was supposed to be there. It was early in the morning, besides, so it was possible that no one was even out in the stables yet.

The servants’ side door was propped open, as people could use it as they got the castle ready for the day’s activities. Ariel slipped in and looked around, moving out of the servants’ halls and down to Eric’s quarters. It was only seven, he was probably just waking up. But she had to do this, in order to do this alone, without anyone else around to see them.

He had shown her the view from his bedroom, so she had a vague understanding of where it was. Retracting those steps as best as she could, she came face to face with a familiar looking set of double doors. She knocked and yelled out “Eric?”

…

_“Eric?”_

Eric rolled over and sat up in bed, rubbing the sleep out of his eyes. The voice was so familiar, it sounded just like – no. It couldn’t possibly be.

“Come in.” He said, stretching. It must be a maid.

The door creaked open hesitatingly, and in walked Ariel, after so many months of separation. “Eric.” She breathed, smiling a little. 

Eric froze and watched as she closed the door behind her and slowly walked in. It couldn’t be. It was a dream, a figment of his imagination. He hadn’t possibly woken up now, not to this. He would never be so lucky.

“Are you real?” he gulped, asking.

She laughed softly and smiled. “Don’t go all existentialist on me, Eric.”

He smiled – just the sort of sarcastic quip he had come to expect from her.

He stood, afraid that if he made one wrong move or said one wrong thing, she would run off or disappear from wherever she came from.

“What are you doing here?” he asked, hoping she would close the space between them.

“I know you’re engaged,” Ariel said, taking one step closer. “but I don’t think I’m okay with not having you in my life.”

“I understand, I feel the same way.” Eric said, taking a step closer to her and holding out his hand. He wanted her to touch him anywhere. His hand, his cheek, his toenail. He missed her.

Ariel took his hand. “I think we can spend time together again, in some capacity. Like at the very start of the summer.”

In some respect, Eric was disappointed. Part of him was holding out for Ariel to have come up with a miraculous solution, something that would rescue them and allow them to wed and live the rest of their lives together. But that was presently quite impossible, and Eric just had to focus on this wonderful little step forward.

“Right.” Eric cupped her face and rubbed her cheeks with his thumbs. “What’s important is that I get to see you again.”

Ariel had successfully won back a little bit of that glowing summer; something to preserve and hold onto until reality forced them to separate forever and for good. She would treasure it, and stretch it out as long as she could.

Eric would’ve given anything to have kissed her in this moment, but he knew he wanted more than that, and he knew he owed her more than that, so he took her hand and said. “Now, take me wherever you’d like to go today.”

Ariel gave him a brilliant smile, one he had so dearly missed. She didn’t know how she was going to fix this, but Ariel knew she would never again be able to say goodbye to Eric like she had to in the gardens. She would always come back for him. Eric looked at the gifted ribbon at the end of her side braid and knew that despite everything, after everything, she really did truly love him.

For now, that was enough. Eric could not speak as to what he would need tomorrow.

…

**We are now halfway through our story, and I hope that you’re enjoying it! Feel free to drop me a line and let me know what you think or (even better!) your theories on what is to happen next** **J**


	3. Winter

Ariel sat bundled in front of the fire, holding onto the lacy invitation. She knew it wasn’t meant as any sort of slight or insult, though someone may have perceived it that way, if they knew only the most basic elements of her situation. The world was colder, now that these papers were shot out into it, and Ariel wished she could tear up each and every one of the invitations into tiny pieces and let them float down like snow.

 

_Prince Eric_

_requests your presence at the royal castle_

**_Saturday, December 21 st at Seven O’Clock_ **

_For a celebration_

‘It’s for your whole family.’ He had assured her sheepishly when he handed it to her.

She had nodded and skimmed it, tucking it into her purse before she mounted her horse and left. The invitation didn’t say it was for an engagement announcement, but of course Ariel knew. The two had been spending time together since their reconciliation, though in a very different respect from the summer. They couldn’t spend nearly as much time together, as Eric had to get things ready for the wedding, and Eric had to spend time and try to build some sort of functional relationship with Margaret. Or, at least, that’s what he was supposed to be doing.

They couldn’t do quite the same activities, but that wasn’t out of a lack of desire to do them – more that it was weather inhibited. As much as they both still loved swimming, when the ocean was frigid and freezing, they had to stay land-bound. Some days it was pleasant enough to go outside and they would go for a sleigh ride or go sledding, but most of their activities moved inside.

Ariel always felt comfortable talking to Eric, but the amount of talking that they did these past few weeks made her feel even closer with him. She talked more about her mother and her family, and told him stories of things she had done in the past; her friends and adventures, what she had seen and done.

In time, she brought him over to the little shed on her family’s estate, making Eric the first non-family member to see it – which was an especially big deal, considering that not even all her sisters had agreed to come and see it.

_“Did you build the shed?” Eric asked._

_Ariel shook her head. “It’s been here as long as I can remember, but I don’t recall my family ever using it for anything. It must’ve just been a storage space we ended up not needing.”_

_With a deep breath, Ariel pushed open the door. There was room for she and Eric to stand, but not room for anything beyond that._

_“Where did you find all this stuff?”_

_“It’s, um, my collection!” Ariel gave a bit of a smile. “Most of it was around the house, tucked away in closets and attics and the like. Some of it was from townspeople who knew my mother and found it in their own homes. A couple things I’d picked up from old shops – things my father had given away were still quite fine, and they wound up back over there. I’m always looking.”_

_“So, things that belonged to your mother can just end up with other collectors?”_

_“She had exquisite taste.” Ariel said, trying to keep things at least a little lighthearted. “See?” She turned to the large portrait, and pointed at her mother’s necklace. “Look at it, is it not the most beautiful thing you’ve ever seen?”_

_“It’s a gorgeous necklace. Do you have it?”_

_“No.” Ariel deflated, crossing her arms. “I can’t tell you how many places I’ve looked, or how long I’ve searched for it.”_

They had been growing closer, the invitation made sense. They were friends, and friends went to each other’s engagement parties. It was proper decorum, and no one would’ve found such an invitation an insult. But, then again, most friends weren’t usually both platonic as well as deeply in love with each other.

Ariel wasn’t sure if she should go – if her sisters pressed her too much, then she’d be obligated to as she couldn’t possibly explain to them the real reason why she couldn’t. No one had mentioned anything about the day Eric came to see her – or, at least, not to her face. Ariel hoped that meant they didn’t know anything. Each sister was completely clueless as to the true nature of their relationship – former or present. Just as Ariel preferred.

The party in and of itself would be fun, and despite the terrible occasion Ariel was sure Eric would still find a way to see her. But to stand in a ballroom, gripping her cup of punch, looking on as the man she loved announced his engagement to another woman, all the while knowing there was nothing she could do? What an unbearable thought.

…

“What is up with Ariel, anyway?” Andrina said, putting her book down.

“Shouldn’t you be studying?” Attina snipped, pulling a few threads through her embroidery.

“Shouldn’t _she_?” Andrina gestured to Ariel’s empty bed, save for the short stack of books. “She’s just been so absent lately, floating around the house or picking up and leaving.”

“And that’s nothing to what she was doing that summer.” Artista chimed in, rolling to her stomach and putting her pillow under her chest.

“Where was she going all that time?” Aquata asked.

“Well, I think she was with _Prince Eric_.” Andrina said slowly, casually, smiling a little because she had waited for just the right moment to release this bombshell. She wasn’t the only sister who knew Prince Eric had come to the house that day, but she was realistically the one who had spent the most time thinking about it, and was the type of person to know just how and when to reveal such a tantalizing secret.

“ ** _WHAT?”_** Attina, Aquata, and Alana yelled simultaneously, dropping their respective projects and leaning forward.

“Okay, so Adella, Artista, and I were just sitting in the parlor.” Andrina began. “Then we heard some knocking on the door. And that was strange! It was such an odd time of day for anyone to be visiting, and anyone who would was sure to be family or a close friend, right?”

“Get on with it, get on with it!” Alana urged.

“Okay so Adella got the door, and guess who came in but _the prince himself_!”

“Is that true?”

Adella looked up as all eyes were on her. “Yes.” She said simply.

“So, he’s asking to see Ariel, and she had hinted that she was setting off to see _someone_ all summer – who else would be able to send carriages for her? Who else is too important to leave their home?” Andrina said, folding her arms.

“So, what happened after that?”

“Well Adella took him upstairs and then out to the gardens.”

“So, Ariel was in the gardens?”

There was a brief pause as the sisters turned to Adella again.

She nodded. “Yes.”

“So, what happened next?” the sisters leaned in towards Adella.

Adella had wanted to linger that day – she had the same burning questions as her sisters. It was hard enough to hold them back when she had Prince Eric all to herself. But Adella understood love or, at least, she wanted to. And she understood it enough to know that it needed to be respected, and it needed some privacy. Meeting all summer, sneaking around, showing up unannounced…there was no way the two of them were friends alone.

“I’m not sure.” Adella shrugged. “I left them to speak.”

“What?!” her sisters exclaimed again.

“You didn’t ask anything?”

“You didn’t _hear_ anything?”

“Oh, come on!”

“Sorry, ladies.” Adella shrugged, looking away. “I guess it’s just none of our business.”

…

Tell me what information you have.” Ursula said, pressing her fingers together and looking at her two maids.

“Margaret is…most unhappy, duchess.”

“Elaborate.”

“She has been put in a wing as far away as possible from the prince. They’re forced to be together, and don’t enjoy any time they spend together. It’s…awkward, miss.”

Ursula raised an eyebrow.

“It’s awkward, _duchess_. All the palace servants think so.”

“Anything else I should know?”

“They haven’t done much together, there’s not much to tell you.” Ms. Jetsam continued. “She spends most of her time by herself, tucked up in her bedroom like she’s grounded to it.”

“She’s not terribly interesting, but I suppose that’s not the worst thing you could say about someone.” Ms. Flotsam added.

“Well, I’m not too sure about that.” Ursula mused, flicking her hand up to dismiss the ladies.

“There is one more thing.” Ms. Flotsam added.

“Yes?”

“There is another girl, one named Ariel, who seems to have…quite a hold on the prince. She has red hair and is one of Triton’s daughters.”

“Triton?” Ursula asked.

“Yes. The two seem to have some sort of relationship, though no one is sure as to what degree.”

Ursula furrowed her brow – the necklace had not shown her this! “If there is nothing else, you are dismissed.” Ursula said.

They curtseyed and obeyed, ducking out the door and closing it quietly behind them. Ursula sat back in her chair and rolled the pearls of her necklace between her fingers, thinking. Refining her plan.

The marriage was not sustainable, Ursula could tell. She had seen the world through Margaret’s eyes, and had already suspected and assumed everything Ms. Flotsam and Ms. Jetsam were telling her. The two never laughed, or spoke freely. There wasn’t even a strategic element to the couple – they never discussed policy or trade or joining their countries together. It was as though neither wanted to be there, despite the fact they had both agreed – and neither put any effort towards leaving the other.

Ursula’s plan was coming together just how she had hoped. But she mustn’t be overconfident; she was playing with true power here. There could be no wild cards, no possibilities unexplored. She had a lot to gain by successfully manipulating the crown, but a lot to lose too. She had plenty of influence and power as a duchess, but what could she accomplish if she were to return to the standard she was born into? That would ruin absolutely everything. She would have no more invitations, no more high society associations, no more influence. Who could affect anything as the daughter of a merchant?

…

Anyone who saw Margaret and Eric alone together would’ve sworn the awkwardness between them was tangible. They always sat as far apart as reasonably possible. Tonight was no different; they had taken dinner together, sitting some three-odd feet apart. They were reasonably cordial, asking each other of their days, and if they liked the food (‘How was your day?’ ‘Today was fine’ ‘Good’ ‘And yours?’ ‘Good’ ‘The food is very nice’ ‘Yes’), but it was clear neither particularly cared, and neither pressed the other for any details.

Grimsby and Carlotta dined with them, and over the past several months they had picked up the habit of carrying the bulk of the conversation.

“So Eric,” Carlotta would often begin happily, and then pose some sort of question about the wedding. “What do you think you’d like to do for the main course?”

Eric genuinely didn’t care what was served that day, he doubted he’d be able to force down any of the food anyway. But he needed to try to take this in good spirits, and, at the very least, he shouldn’t be rude to Carlotta. She knew how he felt, and she was doing her best to help him move on. It wasn’t her fault that he couldn’t.

Eric gave a slight shrug. “Whatever Margaret prefers.”

Margaret would’ve given her left foot to have never heard ‘whatever Margaret prefers’ from Eric again. _That’s_ what Margaret would prefer, _Eric_ , for you to show some interest in the wedding _your_ man arranged. While his sentiment wasn’t mean-spirited, all it did was further emphasize that Eric did not love her yet. Beyond that; he couldn’t care less about the wedding. He wanted no part in it. How was she supposed to find any happiness in the rest of her life if she was to be trapped in a castle and bound to a man who didn’t even want her there? She had to do something; work harder, lest she disappoint her parents and ruin the relations between the two countries forever.

“No, Eric, please.” She smiled at him. “Why don’t you pick this? I’ve already picked so many things.”

Eric furrowed his brow, and Carlotta interrupted to alleviate any awkwardness. “We can talk about that a little bit later, yes? We should probably just focus on the engagement party right now, anyway. Margaret, have you gone to the seamstress yet?”

“Oh, I didn’t think about that.” Margaret said, biting her lip.

“I can send a post down to her tomorrow morning.” Carlotta. “Usually she’ll be able to come down to castle within a few days. You’ve got about a week until the party. It’ll be cutting it close, but I’m sure she’ll be able to manage. She’s very gifted.”

“That would be nice.” Margaret nodded.

“Why don’t you draw up a sketch or something.” Grimsby said, gesturing. “That would probably be quite helpful, and give her a clear point to jump off of.”

“Oh, I’m not very good at drawing.” Margaret said meekly.

“It matters not, dear.” Carlotta assured her. “She’d re-draw it regardless of how good you are, but it’s just a good way of communicating what you like – even if it’s only concepts like length or what kind of neckline.”

“I suppose could do that after dinner.” Margaret agreed.

When the meal was finished, Carlotta and Grimsby went off to begin their nightly routines, and Eric and Margaret went to the parlor to retire. Eric had hoped that Margaret would be quick and retire to bed early, for he had made a special appointment for a special girl, and she was going to meet him at eight. He wished he had a way to tell Grimsby that, so that the man wouldn’t have given her a specific task to accomplish. Normally, she would read for twenty minutes or so and then excuse herself. Now, who knows how long she’d take?

And while Ariel and Eric were only going to go into town together, and while they hadn’t even kissed each other on the cheek or somewhere equally platonic since their break-up, Eric still didn’t want Margaret to know about Ariel. He feared that as soon as they met each other Margaret would instantly sense everything that he wanted, and know that none of it was her. She was a smart girl, he would never disparage that.

There was no way to bring these fears up, so Eric retreated to one of the many parlors with her, and she asked a maid to bring her a sketching pencil and some paper. The maid dipped a curtsey, and had it back to her within five minutes. Eric opened his book, hoping that by reading he would be able to avoid any conversation that may come up. Margaret got to work, and the two sat quietly for forty-five minutes or so.

Margaret tapped a pencil against her lips, looking down at six rough sketches she had drawn and discarded. Sleeves too puffy, skirt immodestly tight, bodice too oddly cut, skirt too large, skirt too thin, no capes. She didn’t know what she wanted!

Eric looked up at the clock. Too much time had passed already, Ariel was probably starting to wonder if he was going to come! “I’m going to take a friend of mine into town.” Eric rose, shutting the book.

“Oh.” Margaret said, unsure of how to proceed. Was he asking or informing? Did it matter? “That seems nice.”

Eric smiled a little. “Yeah, she showed me this necklace her mom had, a real nice one she wore in a painting in this, uh, shed, and I think I’ve got a nice surprise for her.” That sentence probably didn’t make any sense to Margaret, but he wasn’t interested in providing any context.

“That’s sweet.” Said Margaret, who had never been surprised by Eric. “Who’s the friend?”

Eric wasn’t fully sure if he was supposed to lie here. “Uh, her name is Ariel. I’m not sure if you’ve met.”

“Will she be at the engagement ball?”

“She’s invited.”

“That’s nice.”

“Yes.”

There was silence, neither sure of the proper thing to say. Then, quite suddenly, there was a knock at the door.

“Ericcc.” A voice whined. “Are you in this one? I understand this is a castle but you have _so many_ parlors and this is the eighth one I’ve knocked on, maybe the forty-eighth, I’m not sure.”

Eric had stood up and strode over while she was speaking, opening the door to reveal Ariel.

“Hi!” she said chipperly.

“Hi.” He said, hugging her.

He could feel Margaret watching them, and it made their hug stiffer and more awkward. Ariel furrowed her brow and looked up at him, but she looked over his shoulder and made the connection – _this_ must be his fiancée. _Oh_.

“Hello.” She waved her hand a little, not sure of how she was supposed to behave.

Technically she and Eric weren’t doing anything wrong, but could Margaret tell that they wanted to? Did she know who she was, and what Eric meant to her? What she meant to Eric?

Margaret looked Ariel up and down. She had such long, lovely hair, and was wearing a purple silk dress, embroidered with little yellow flowers up and down the slit in the middle. The girl took a step towards her fiancé, and a cream petticoat emerged from the slit. The dress was far too low-cut for Margaret to ignore, but perhaps that was to accommodate the extra fabric needed the long sleeves. Maybe the girl was poor. Margaret scoffed, then scolded herself for the cheap comment.

“I don’t believe we’ve met.” Margaret said, very quietly.

“This is the Ariel I had mentioned.”

Of course it was – why would it be anyone but a beautiful, chipper young girl?

“You’ll be at our,” here Margaret gestured to Eric and back to herself. “engagement ball, right?”

Ariel bit her lip. “If I can make it.” She said meekly.

“I’ll cross my fingers.” Margaret said, a twang in her voice.

…

“You never told me where we were going.” Ariel said, taking Eric’s hand (platonically, of course). She had already pushed Margaret out of her mind – an important skill to have in order to continue her time with Eric.

“I want it to be a surprise.” He smiled, helping her up into the little buggy.

“Hint? Pleaaase?”

“Fine.” Eric smiled. “I’m not taking you to an archery range.”

“That’s a terrible clue!” Ariel exclaimed. “We’ve never been to an archery range! I never even thought you would take me there!”

“Huh.” Eric said. “Well, I guess it must feel good to know it’s out for sure, then.”

Ariel laughed and rolled her eyes. Putting up her feet, she peppered Eric with increasingly outlandish guesses.

“Are we going to the market?”

“It’s closed.”

“Are we going to look for toads?”

“Considering that it’s winter, not today.”

“Are we going to throw rocks at wasp hives?”

“As fun as that sounds, probably not.”

In time, they pulled up to a simple little antique shop.

“Oh, I’ve been here!” Ariel exclaimed.

“I’d think so.” Eric said. “She seemed to know you.”

“What are we doing here?” Ariel asked. “It’s a bit late for shopping, don’t you think?”

“Ariel, I’m the prince.” Eric rolled his eyes. “I don’t like to abuse the power but I think I can get someone to stay open an extra hour for me.”

Ariel shrugged. “I don’t know. Remember that time you told me to eat the entire chocolate cake Louie had made? I didn’t do that, even when you double dared me.”

“Yeah,” Eric said, helping her down. “But I’m not your king, I’m your suitor.” He paused for a second. “Was.”

Ariel bit her lip and looked up at him. “I suppose you’re right.”

Eric led her into the store.

“Hello, your highness!” an old woman gave a deep curtsey.

“Please,” Eric said and she smiled up at him.

“Now come back, come back – ah, this must be the Ariel I was told about!” she wrapped both of her hands around one of Ariel’s, smiling warmly at the girl.

“Hello!” Ariel said chipperly, following the woman’s lead.

“Now Eric, does she know why she’s here?”

“Not exactly.”

“Well, would you like to explain or should I?” the woman asked, holding open a creaky wooden door for the two to slip through. She gestured to two overstuffed chairs and the pair sat down, scooting closer to the table that separated them from the collector.

“Whichever you prefer.” Eric said.

“Well, I love a good story!” the woman sat down and looked Eric in the eye. “Well, Eric wrote me, late in the summer, in order to ask me to look for a specific item. Not so much a specific item, but more of a general category. And that was things pertaining to your mother, dear.”

Ariel’s mouth made a little ‘o’ and she looked over at Eric. Eric gave her a small smile and then looked down.

“Well it was hard to find for your mother, while she was certainly a lovely woman, was not that old and was not exactly famous. Most of her things are probably still among your family and friends, or were spread farther than my reach usually goes. So, I sent out letters and searched for items.”

“Did..did you find anything?” Ariel asked, heart hammering.

“Well, it’d be rather cruel for you to be brought here for me to be emptyhanded, wouldn’t it?” the collector smiled, dipping under her desk.

Ariel held her breath as the woman opened a drawer and pulled out an ornate golden box.

“This was hers.” The collector assured her.

Ariel put her hand to her mouth, gasping.

“But that’s not quite the end of it.” The collector wiggled open the little clasp, and turned the box around slowly.

Ariel removed her hand from her mouth and reached out at the box, tugging it closer to her. “Oh, my god…” she said.

Inside the box was a set of pearl hair combs. Written in ink on the white silk lining was her signature, _Athena Triton_. They were set on silver, impeccably kept. Whoever had taken them must have seldom worn them, or at least taken very good care of them.

“She wore these.” Ariel said quietly, holding one up as gently as if it were a butterfly.

“It would seem so.” The collector said, smiling at her.

“Thank you so much!” Ariel said, tears welling up in her eyes. “I can’t begin to tell you what you’ve done for me.”

“Can you describe the necklace to her?” Eric said to Ariel.

Ariel gasped. “Do you think you could find that?”

“I’d try my best, though I never make any promises I can’t keep.” The woman smiled. “Here, take this pad of paper. Sketch it out best you can, my memory isn’t always perfect anymore. Write down all the details you remember. I’ll search for it, and use all my contacts.”

Ariel pushed tears from her eyes and gave Eric a smile that made the tumultuous months, the financial cost, the stress and all else worth it. In that moment, Eric melted. He leaned over and watched her sketch like they were in the meadow again, unaware that he had placed his hand on her back.

…

While the days dragged on, awkwardly wading through the hours with Eric, the weeks flew. Soon it was time for the engagement party, and Margaret and Eric had no tangible progress to show for it. Every meal was just as silent, every conversation just as forced. The two didn’t seem to have the ability to grow any closer – whether or not it was because they lacked the will was up for debate, but neither truly cared to examine that much. They were both only doing their duty to their country.

Margaret nervously twisted the orb necklace between her finger and thumb, biting the inside of her cheek and praying for tonight to go well. Tonight, she was to be officially engaged. Sure, it was official as soon as Eric’s representative and her parents came to an agreement, but the period that had passed over the past several months was more of a trial period, to make sure neither would fold under the immense pressure. Once it was announced, there was no going back.

Once people not directly involved in the engagement grew to knew about it, there was nothing Margaret could do but resign herself to being queen and mediator; wife of Prince Eric. Eric. She can call him Eric now, she must remember that. He was not just a king he was…he was going to be her husband. She was going to know him intimately, in time. If she were to back down now, she would be seen as a bolter, and would deeply insult the country. They had already gone to war, who knows, perhaps Eric would take his turn to launch war against them.

“You’re gonna be okay! Everything is fine. Everything will work out. It always does.” She mumbled to herself, unaware Ursula was listening to everything.

She sat at her vanity and fiddled with her appearance – she had already been groomed and polished up for the party, but she was too nervous to go out of her room and accept it as real. She tapped a little more color on her lips, ran a brush through her hair. Took out her earring and put it back in.

“He’s not a bad person. He doesn’t abuse you.” She said, running the brush more over her hair than through it. “In time you’ll settle into the country. You’ll be a good queen. You have the potions.”

Margaret didn’t want to be at this party; she didn’t want to be Prince Eric’s wife – either part of that name was bad. She didn’t want to be queen of anything – she wasn’t the eldest of her family, and she had never strove to make a smart match. She was forced into this position. And she didn’t love Eric, or even really like him that much. He would’ve probably been much warmer under different circumstances – he seemed nicer at the ball, at least – but he was cold and standoffish and she really didn’t think he deserved any of her love or emotional labor.

She had tried, she really had. They talked and spent time together, and she had been living in his castle for months now. Never had she so regretted not immediately taking her mother up on the offer to go to the nunnery.

“It could be worse.” Margaret said to her reflected self. “If I can keep our two countries on good terms, then there’s no real ruling I’d have to do. Eric seems happy enough to do that himself, anyway. As long as Glauerhaven doesn’t attack or get attacked, I can just keep to myself.” She didn’t see herself ever feeling like a real member of Eric’s country anyway.

She stood and looked at herself in the full-length mirror, suddenly feeling very stupid and wondering if there was time for her to change – and if she could possibly get out of this gown by herself. The seamstress was very talented and had sewn it just to Margaret’s specifications, but Margaret wished she had specified anything else. The silk dress bunched up over a cream petticoat, and little yellow flowers patterned the hem. It was more low-cut than she was comfortable with, but she had tried to be daring. No, she had tried to be someone else. But, of course, that was not an option.

There were a few knocks on the door. “Margaret, dear.” Carlotta peeped her head in, already dressed in her own fine gown. “It’s time to go down.”

“Oh, already?” Margaret asked. Of course, Eric hadn’t come. She thought it spitefully, wanting to complain but not particularly caring. If he had come, it would’ve just been awkward.

“Come on dear, it won’t be that bad.” Carlotta waved her hand. “Let’s just go down and face it head on.”

…

It was clear that the two didn’t love each other. Despite the façade they tried their best to perpetrate, neither Margaret nor Eric had realized that Ursula had been watching them, and knew anything they had the foolishness to verbally express. If anything, that made Ursula’s job easier. She had already planned for this possibility.

The only thing more preferable than being the person who influenced the ruler was being the person who was ruling. Now, Ursula could not presently see a way to be queen herself. But, once Eric and Margaret were married, Eric could be…easily disposed of. This would make Margaret far more dependent – the girl did not even have the confidence to marry the most easy-going prince in the world, how could she possibly summon up the nerve to run the kingdom by herself?

No, she would continue to return to Ursula and beg her for more potions, maybe even stronger ones. Ones that would help her maintain her queenly grace.

There was only one issue – the red-haired girl who continued stumbling in and out of Eric’s life. The one who so clearly had a hold on Eric. If the situation was manipulated properly, the passion clear between Eric and Ariel could be used to make Margaret even more insecure in her own connection. But by allowing this relationship to continue, then Ariel could perhaps split Eric and Margaret up for good.

If Eric and Margaret didn’t wed, then any association with Margaret would’ve been for nothing – brewing those potions, easy as it was to do, would’ve been a waste of time. The girl would know too much about Ursula and her ambitions, and it would present an issue of its own. But Ursula still had confidence in her own ability get the couple to the wedding day, she just had to be very astute tonight.

By gauging how terrible the relationship between Margaret and Eric was tonight, Ursula could come to an understanding of what would have to be done. Perhaps the problem would fix itself, but, more likely, Ursula would have to step in and ensure that everything was done correctly.

She wasn’t afraid to take a chance; she wasn’t afraid to take anything.

…

To the tune of trumpets, Eric made his entrance into the ballroom. Margaret was already inside – though there were already plenty of rumors floating about concerning their engagement, they would not enter a room together until it was officially announced.

Eric looked across the ballroom and somehow instantly locked eyes with Ariel, who stood there with her hair pulled back in combs. She gave him a small smile, like she had been somehow able to forget what exactly brought them here tonight. There was a crescendo with a violin, and the music began. As ceremony dictated, the prince was to start the dancing. As he was expected to do, Eric stepped forward and offered a hand to Princess Margaret, amongst the titters of the audience.

Once the couple had waltzed for a few minutes, other couples – mostly high-ranking ones – saw fit to join in. As the dance progressed, the dance floor filled completely up with people dancing and lightly chatting, while others sipped drinks and discussed things in small groups.

“Excuse me,” Eric mumbled, more as a formality than an excuse, dropping Margaret’s hand and heading towards the crowd.

“Oh, Eric.” Grimsby said. “Stay here. We’re going to make the announcement when the song ends.”

“Already?” Eric said, a bit of panic in his voice.

“We might as well, most everyone already knows.” Grimsby said. “Here,” he took Margaret’s arm and beckoned for Eric to follow. “come to the top of the steps where everyone can see you.”

Where everyone could see them – where Ariel could see them. Eric bit his lip but followed, hoping there was a world somewhere where she could forgive him. Lord knows he didn’t deserve it, but he wanted it. He trudged up the stairs in a fit of melodrama, likening it to being led to the guillotine. Despite the unsavory comparisons, Eric really did feel like he had no choice in the outcome of his life. The two stood at the top of the stairs, and already people were starting to break apart and looking up; they were more prepared for the announcement than Eric ever would be.

“You say it, Grim.” Eric said, looking down. He didn’t want the words said, he certainly couldn’t be the one to say them.

“Ladies and gentlemen, esteemed guests…” Grimsby began.

Eric found himself praying for someone to burst through the doors, demanding that they not wed. For someone to offer any way out he himself could not see. But there was no slick way out of this engagement. The only way out was to tell Margaret he couldn’t marry her, and that offered terrible consequences. So, Eric held his tongue as Grimsby continued for formalities, praising and thanking the guests, giving a bit of context to what he was about to say, and finally;

“-it is my greatest honor to present the engaged couple of Prince Eric and Princess Margaret.”

…

Ariel wasn’t fully sure why she had come – she didn’t want to see this. She didn’t want to watch him dance with a woman he was engaged to. She didn’t want to hear the announcement that would crush any less little bit of hope, that _maybe_ Margaret would decide she didn’t want the match, that _maybe_ Eric would think of another way out, that _maybe_ Eric would decide the risk was worth it, and that he would find another way to govern them out of any other potential conflicts.

Walking away from her family, Ariel picked up her skirts and went to collect a well-deserved glass of punch. She had to save it, keep everything up inside until she could get home, go out to her shed, and let everything out.

“Hey,” Eric slid behind her, placing his hand on the small of her back.

She looked up at him.

“I so don’t want to be here right now.” He said quietly, sadly. Only Ariel could hear him say that.

“Me either.” She mumbled, turning towards him.

“Let’s go then. Just for a bit. Just like before.” He said, smiling a little.

Eric tugged Ariel outside of the ballroom, down the hallway, and out to the beach. Ariel could feel her heart hammering. She had to tell him that she loved him still, she had to have him know. He knew, she was sure he knew, but she still had to tell him. It wasn’t too late; he already knew. This was not new information, this was an affirmation.

“Eric, what are we doing?” Ariel said sadly. “I hate this. Why can’t everything just be as it was? It was so perfect this summer.”

“I know,” Eric dipped his head.

“I still love you, Eric.” Ariel said, feeling brave and ashamed at the same time. “I never stopped – I stopped liking you for a bit, when we first split, but I never stopped loving you. I’m not sure if I can. I don’t think I’m willing to try.”

Eric wished that was enough. He wished that was a revelation; new information that could justify every impulse that rushed up in him as soon as she said that. He wanted to tell her that he loved her back but, more than that, he wanted to run inside and call the thing off. Tell everyone to leave; go home! He wasn’t marrying Margaret and he didn’t act out of ignorance or a lack of consideration; he was not just another selfish and impulsive king who thought he was uncrushable. He wanted to explain how he had suffered and labored before reaching this point.

“I love you, too. I don’t want this engagement.” He gestured to the castle. “Please, please, know that.”

“I do, I do know.” Ariel nodded, stepping closer to Eric.

“I can’t not love you, I can’t spend my whole life fighting myself like this.” Eric took her face in his hands and bent down to kiss her, ignoring the consequences for just a moment.

              Ariel accepted this happily, ignoring the consequences and the situation for a minute as well, and threw her arms around him. She had missed him; she had dreamed of this.

“This can’t be wrong.” Eric kissed her again. I can’t love you this much, you can’t love me this much and still have touching you be wrong.”

“Eric, we’re at your _engagement_ party – and not your engagement to me.” Ariel pointed out, albeit feebly. She didn’t actually want him to consider that.

“I know,” Eric moaned, leaning back and running his hands through his hair. “I’m sorry, Ariel. I really am. I don’t want you in this position.”

“It’s better than nothing.” Ariel said, before she even knew what she was saying.

“Is it? Could you really spend the rest of your life like this, sneaking off and hiding away?” Eric asked, already knowing his answer. The time was rapidly approaching, and he hated being stuck between his country and his heart. It was an unfairly cruel choice to have to make, and he couldn’t emerge a winner.

“No…” Ariel sighed after a moment. “At some point things would have to change. I don’t know when that point would be.” She shifted her weight between her two feet. “It just doesn’t have to be now. I can’t say goodbye for good, Eric. Let’s just go back inside.”

Eric nodded and walked beside her as they re-entered the ballroom, as quietly as they had left. Their closeness was wholly unnoticed by all but Adella, but both Eric and Ariel were too submerged in their own thoughts to possibly notice anyone else.

Ariel had tried to be apart from Eric before. While she knew that she _could_ live without him, she didn’t want to. She missed him, she missed their conversations, she missed doing new things and spending time together. She didn’t want to hurt Margaret, but she knew that Eric didn’t love her. Oh, she sounded just like a foolish village girl! But maybe she was – would that really be so bad?

Eric didn’t like the idea that Ariel longed so for the summer – there was more to them, he knew that. Things could not be what they were; only new things could grow. In the time since their rekindling, Eric worried about Ariel’s words. Things as they were. Everything as it was. Time, far too much, had passed since then and it would be quite impossible to reestablish that. He could never be the man he was again, and he could only hope that what he had to offer was still somehow enough.

The rest of the ball passed uneventfully; Eric accepted the congratulations he didn’t want, he and Margaret awkwardly danced a few times, and no one seemed to quite catch what was so off about the prince that night, or why he never looked his fiancée in her eyes as he danced, but rather over her shoulder, at a grouping of girls by the punch table.

…

Ariel laid in bed, perfectly still, heart hammering. She was in loved with an engaged man, and he was in love with her. They had barely tried to pretend that they didn’t love each other anymore, but that was completely gone now. They could only stay like this for so long, and she knew that. She just didn’t know what to do about it.

Adella pushed open the bedroom doors, startling Ariel and causing her to sit up.

“Oh sorry, you took me by surprise!” Ariel settled back.

“Deep in thought, huh?” Adella smiled, shutting the door behind her more quietly and carefully than normal.

“I guess.” Ariel shrugged, refusing to elaborate.

Adella strode over and sat on the edge of Ariel’s bed. “You might need to talk to someone Ariel, and I just want you to know I’d be happy to listen. You don’t have to say anything, but you can.”

Ariel looked at Adella, studying her. She could’ve sworn Adella didn’t know about her and Eric!

“I never told anyone, Ariel.” Adella started. “The day the prince came? I didn’t eavesdrop, and I didn’t gossip or tell anyone my suspicions.”

“Thank you.” Ariel said quietly. Truly, it was amazing she had been able to hide her relationship from her family for so long. She had just assumed it to be a perk of being one of seven sisters – sometime you got lost in the shuffle. 

“I’m not telling you for thanks.” Adella said, sitting on the edge of Ariel’s bed. “I don’t want you to worry that I did, is all. I don’t know anything about your relationship that you don’t want me to know. None of us do.”

Ariel smiled a little at this. “Can…can I tell you about it?” Ariel said. She had been bottling this up for so long, maybe, just maybe, Adella could help her.

“Of course.” Her sister placed her hand over Ariel’s. “I won’t tell anyone, honest.”

“I love him, Adella. But, more importantly, he loves me.”

Adella bit her lip. Her first instinct was to chide – this had happened to her friends before. An older man, usually, would show interest in them, all the time insisting that he was so close to leaving his wife. They’d be strung along and manipulated into thinking that the man really did love them. But, there was one important difference. Those men didn’t actually care about her friends, and as soon as they began to press or ask more from the man, he’d leave. Adella was there when Eric came for Ariel, she had seen how desperate he was to speak with her. She had heard nice things about the prince…maybe they were true.

“When did this start?” Adella asked. If anything, she’d hear Ariel out before saying anything.

“At the ball he threw this summer. We started talking and he was just…easy to be around. I didn’t think anything would come of it, but he kept asking me to spend more time with him and I enjoyed it, so I agreed to.”

“Why didn’t _you_ guys get engaged, then?” Adella tipped her head.

“Grimsby, who’s like an advisor that’s practically his father, was supposed to be the one to arrange the marriage. When Eric and I were courting we really didn’t…tell anyone, exactly, so he didn’t know. So he went ahead and got Eric engaged. Oh, ‘della.” Ariel sighed, leaning onto her sister. “I would give anything to have that summer back. If I knew it was going to end, and so soon, I think I would’ve appreciated it more. And I loved it while I was living it.”

“Oh, sis.” Adella wrapped her arms around her sister and hugged her.

“It was perfect. You guys didn’t know and neither did any of his advisors, so we weren’t escorted or hounded or talked about. We just got to spend time on the beach and up in the meadows. It was just _wonderful_.”

“Do you still love him, after all these months? The same way?”

“No, I love him more than I did last summer. It’s different now, but not in a bad way. Things are bad, but he hasn’t stopped wanting to be with me. We can still have fun, I still want to be near him. Even if it’s not in the same way. I can’t bear to have him marry that stupid princess, I wish we had thought to preempt that somehow! I’d give anything for to be July again, for it to be July forever.”

“Ariel,” Adella ran her fingers through her sister’s hair soothingly.

Ariel interrupted and continued. “If nothing had changed, then everything could’ve been perfect! We could’ve spent all our days together, just like we used to; I would go to the beach with him in the morning, and then come back here to spend time with you guys! There always would’ve been something exciting to do and everything would just…would just be easy.”

“Ariel, you can’t expect everything to stay as it was.” Adella cooed. “That’s not realistic – and would you really want it anyway? Would you really want to spend the rest of your life not sure if he was in love with you, just having fun and not really knowing each other deeply?”

Ariel didn’t say anything.

“The only way to make any progress is to keep going forward, and keep trying new things, right?”

“I’m scared of that, Adella.” Ariel said quietly. “Ever since we’ve been moving forward, the situation has been getting harder. He got engaged, Margaret is here now. We don’t get to spend time together like we used to.”

“But does he seem to love you any less?”

“No.”

“And you said you love him even more?”

“Yes!”

“Then that’s good progress.” Adella concluded. “You’ve been moving forward in the important ways. These obstacles have made you stronger, even though they’re made life harder. I can’t claim to know what to do or how to fix everything, but I can clearly see that moving forward has been good for you, and Prince Eric. You can’t have the summer back Ariel. Work towards the spring.”

Spring was coming, even though the muffling snow sometimes made Ariel forget that she’d ever be able to live a life unlike the one she had. In time, it would warm and brighten. In spring, things could grow again.

…

Though their love had been hidden in the summer, it was never covert. There were no consequences to it, and no shame. They kept it secret for the sake of keeping it to themselves. While both Ariel and Eric were aware of the process behind a proper engagement, they had chosen to ignore it. Maybe it was selfish of them, but they weren’t thinking of the consequence that summer.

Now, in the grayscale of winter, things were quite different. Every day they were together was another risk; a chance of someone who couldn’t or wouldn’t keep their secret leaning of the feelings that had and do exist between them. Every day they spent together was just increasing the odds that they’d never be able to spend another day together again. If Grimsby found out especially, he would be outraged at the lack of decorum. Eric was eternally grateful that Carlotta had not said anything to Grimsby, for that was the only way that they had these days together at all.

 “Wouldn’t it be nice if we could just run away?” Ariel had mused, sitting in the library with Eric.

The wind-whipped snow had trapped them inside, and the two had spent the day making little crafts. Ariel was working on a set of cards for each of her sisters – Valentine’s Day was coming up and while she still had quite a bit of time to prepare everything, she figured today was as good of a day as any to work on it.

Eric smiled. “I’d want a large ship, big enough to live on, and outfitted with large bedrooms and a good kitchen.”

“We could sail around the whole world!” Ariel smiled, cutting out a small red heart. “Set port in a different country every week.”

“And if we found some place that we liked, we could stay as long as we wanted to.” Eric added. “Days, months, years. It wouldn’t matter. We could swing by England and you could see all of the palaces and little tea houses.”

“I’ve never been to England.” Ariel said, unwinding a spool of lace. “I’ve never left the country, in fact.”

“Would you like to?” Eric asked.

“Oh, so much!” Ariel exclaimed. “I’d go anywhere in the world!”

Carlotta overheard voices and walked towards the library – no one was supposed to be cleaning in that area, and Eric was typically long abed and seldom in the library besides.

“We can go together, I’ll figure out how.” Eric said confidently. “I don’t want to miss out on anything with you, I hate that we’ve had to miss so much already.”

“I know.” Ariel sighed. “But it’s better than nothing. It’s still a step forward.”

“If there was any way out of this engagement, I would take it.” Eric moaned. “If I was anything but the one to be crowned I would leave. I wish I had an older sibling, or that this had all worked out differently, somehow.”

“It’s not your wedding yet – there’s not even a date set, right?” Ariel asked.

“Right. I’m sure it’ll have to come soon, with the engagement being announced and all, but for now there’s nothing properly planned.”

“We still have time. There’s still hope.” Ariel said.

Carlotta sighed as she retreated from the door. She didn’t think either of the couple had seen her, thankfully. She knew how Eric felt, but for him to still feel so strongly about Ariel that he would be doing this? Maybe she hadn’t categorized the relationship properly. Maybe there was more than just the summer between them.

…

Margaret sat at a little letter-writing desk in her room, gripping her quill.

 

_Dear Mother,_

 

She had started the letter but, despite the presence of the words in her, she couldn’t seem to find the right way to say how she felt – about Eric, about this whole engagement. Her mother had mentioned she had wrote a letter, begging to come home. It was also quite clear that the letter had no effect in bringing her home. Would her mother be more sympathetic? Or would she assure Margaret that her own marriage was proof that these arrangements worked? Would this letter help at all?

Margaret felt a pang of fear – what if all letters leaving the palace were read, by Eric or an aid? Or what if only hers were, since she was a foreign princess who had so clearly not yet gained Eric’s trust? They would see her desperation to leave the marriage, and it could lead to a way. Of course her country would leap to defense, but the idea of people going to war over her was enough to make Margaret feel sick.

She had had her chance to get out of the marriage – yes, she had been berated and coaxed into agreeing to the marriage. And, yes, at the time she had felt she had no choice. But she could’ve said no, she could’ve turned herself over to the nunnery then. She chose to not do so, and now she had to face the consequences for that.

Sighing, Margaret tore up the letter before writing it. There was no need to do even that – who, upon reading the heading of ‘Dear Mother’ would _possibly_ extrapolate everything she was feeling? Hopefully, no one would ever know. She had to work hard to wrap her feelings up; her wedding day was always creeping closer, and she would have to put on a hell of a façade for that.

…

Ursula firmly believed in taking whatever she wanted as her own. This was always in play in a micro fashion, from when she was a petulant and aggressive child, but it grew even more as the girl began to take her first steps into society. Every ball and party was a chance to see exactly what she didn’t have, and just what she needed. Each new house visited or acquaintance made was a way to add to a wish list of things to acquire.

When she was very young, maybe thirteen, her father had made a significant trade deal that opened up more societal doors to her family, and she was invited over to associate with the daughter of an earl. The daughter was overall irrelevant, a boring little girl that dully looked at Ursula with heavy-lidded eyes and pinned back hair. But she had the most beautiful jewelry, and Ursula implored the girl to show her full collection.

‘I suppose’, the girl had said, pulling out a small box from her armoire and opening it. There was a ruby stone on a chain that caught the light so well, Ursula fell in love with it. When the girl excused herself for the washroom, Ursula snatched it and closed the box, ushering the girl outside in order to distract from what she had done. Ursula wore that necklace many times and to many parties, but as her power grew, when she rose to the status of duchess, she found better and finer things to wear.

She had never had fine jewelry before she had the ruby necklace. No one offered her that necklace, so she took it. No one wanted to give her power, so she took it. No one wanted to teach her to brew potions, so she learned of her own accord. No one bought her gifts or fineries, so she extorted others until they were found. Ursula had poisoned, tricked, deceived, lied, and killed before and woe to the ignorant who thought they had the right to get in her way.

This applied to all who were below her, but you see, _everyone_ was. While she was not queen, the future queen and king did not know how to brew potions, and, more importantly, they did not know they were above the law. Possessed power, if unused, is not truly had. The particular skillset that Ursula cultivated made her special. What may have, perhaps, really given Ursula the power and control she utilized is the fact she dared to use it at all.

And she had learned this skill the hard way. No, this is not the story of a sweet woman turned sour by the world. Ursula was always gasping, searching for power and worrying that it would never come to her. She was born into a wealthy merchant family – they had competed with the Tritons for decades – but her father’s influence was waning as his business shrunk. The boom of her adolescence quickly shrank as the tide turned towards the Tritons, and it the pressure of her waning power felt like a clamp. She had only months to make a proper match, though fate didn’t even guarantee her that. Soon, it would be all over society that her family had lost much of their money and influence, and her stock would be worth far less than before.

Roughly twelve years ago, when she was in her late twenties, she had received a note from the duke, bidding her to come at once, and Ursula rushed. She commanded her servants into her room, to pull up her hair and rouge her cheeks. Every minute that passed was a chance the duke could change his mind, and he would not bid her to come at once if it was not something important. She and the duke had interacted only a few times, at a series of parties where the very powerful rubbed elbows with the mildly powerful. She didn’t care much for him, but people had seen them together and soon they began to discuss that. Ursula had been listening; Ursula knew this.

So, she came at once. She wrapped herself up in her buggy and attached her horse. There was no time to send for a driver – the horse would be taken away before the duke would even see her. He was a man too important to answer his own door. A light rain was starting, oh that would never do, she would be too quick to get wet. The snapped the reins, and flew down the roads.

Berating and smacking the horses, she urged them to go more and more quickly, dodging around trees and leaping over rocks. Her buggy spent as much time flying up off the ground as it did rocketing across it.

“Move, you bastards!” she cried out at a small blue buggy, ambling carefully across the road.

She snapped her reins again, and the horses skidded, sending her own buggy swinging. Ursula clutched them tightly as she slipped over the seats, feeling as though she had no control; all that there was was speed. She went faster and faster and even as the horses began to stumble, she couldn’t believe how fast they remained. Everything was too quick; one scene and one sight after another. Her buggy swung right and with a terrible crash and buckling noise, crashed into the little blue buggy, sending both skeetering.

Hollering, she yanked back and the reins and tried her best to keep the horses and her own buggy on the road. The horses slipped and bucked up, but eventually were able to come to a stop. Ursula pulled the reins back and stuck her head out into the first fresh raindrops. She called out at the buggy, but the buggy had rolled down the hill and smashed into a tree. The horse attached to it neighed loudly and jumped up.

Biting her lip and cursing herself for wasting time, Ursula slipped out of the buggy and, still holding the reins, looked over the hill. ‘Hello?’ she had called out, annoyance still seeping into her voice. Swearing under her breath, Ursula crept down the hill, stooped down to the point where she was practically on all fours, like some sort of animal.

She rose back to her two feet, keeping an eye on the spooked horse. The little blue buggy was absolutely smashed and Ursula felt her heart drop as she saw the mess of red that came out of – red hair, and red, red, blood. The woman’s eyes were shut, her mouth open, and the lower half of her body was stuck the buggy still. Ursula looked down at her, asking again ‘hello?’.

There was no response. Ursula used the toe of her shoe to nudge the woman, and the woman moved where pressure was applied but she did not react, or make a noise, or jump back. The woman wasn’t moving, her chest wasn’t rising, there was no flutter in her eyes.

Ursula felt another raindrop on her head, and surveyed the redheaded woman, her face covered in scratches and blood but still unsettlingly familiar. _Oh_. Ursula let her eyes roam down past the woman’s face. **Oh**!

Within minutes Ursula was back up the hill and into her buggy, snapping the horses back into their full speed in order to compensate for any lost time. She pulled into the manor, fixing her hair and righting her skirts. A maid escorted her into the parlor where there were two high backed chairs and a low fire. Ursula surveyed the room. She liked it. She would spend a lot of time here.

“Hello, my sweet.” The duke had said when she entered, using a pet name with her for the first time. He held the top of his cane and smiled at her, looking her up and down. “That necklace looks stunning on you.”

Ursula touched the exquisite sapphire piece, smiling at the man who would be her husband in only minutes. Despite there being no evidence to support this statement she replied, “Oh, darling, you are always so sweet to me.”

If Ursula were to write a sort of biography on her life, she always thought she would cite this event as to why it was so easy for her to poison her own husband; a man she lived with and rose with and grew comfortable with. It was easy to kill, because she had done it before. When you’ve already struck down one body, why, what was two?

…

“So, Eric?” Carlotta began in her classical way, rapping on his bedroom door a few times.

“Yes?” Eric said, tying the red sash around his waist.

“What business are you getting yourself into today?” Carlotta asked, but she had a pretty clear idea of where he was headed off to.

“Oh, just out.” Eric said vaguely.

“And _who_ are you going out with?”

“Is…is there any reason you’re asking?”

“Is there any reason you’re avoiding my question?”

“It’s just Ariel, no big deal.” Eric tried to play it off cool, but it was too late.

“Eric, I’m not coming here to berate you.” Carlotta softened, walking into the room. “But I know that, despite whatever effort you put into distancing yourself from Ariel,” Carlotta suspected that there wasn’t a lot of energy put towards that effort, but that was a different conversation. “you aren’t able to be _only_ friends with her.”

Eric trusted Carlotta, and he knew he could talk to her about anything, even if this was hard to talk about. “I don’t think I can, either.”

“Then, Eric, what are you doing keeping up this engagement?” Carlotta sighed. “Why bother going through with it at all?”

“Lottie, I have to.” Eric said, sadly. “You know as well as I do about our relations with Glauerhaven.”

“Yes Eric, I understand the concerns. I’ve discussed this with Grimsby at length, as well.”

“He feels the same way.”

“I know.” Carlotta said.

“Carlotta, don’t make me fight you on this.” Eric sighed, turning towards her. “I don’t want to argue for marrying Margaret, because I don’t want to do it at all. If I didn’t think it would turn to war, I would’ve called it off as soon as it happened.”

Even in just this exchange, Eric’s mind raced with the flicker of hope – maybe he _could_ just call off the wedding. Maybe there was some miracle where she would allow their counties to peacefully separate. Margaret did seem like a forgiving and reasonable woman – after all, she had put up with his cold shoulder for so many months. Additionally, she didn’t seem to be any more enamored with him than he was with her.

“Eric, think this through. You know a lot more about Margaret since the engagement was first arranged. I won’t tell you what to do, because this has to be your decision, but don’t force yourself into a marriage just because it _was_ the only option last fall.” Carlotta stressed.

Eric sighed and rubbed the back of his neck. “How am I supposed to do that, Carlotta? I don’t want to start a war. I can’t even risk that.”

“Test the waters. She doesn’t seem too keen on the wedding either.” Carlotta said. “Try to push back or push off the date. If she agrees, and doesn’t fight back, then perhaps that’s a good sign to brooch the topic. There are a thousand reasons to postpone a wedding, it doesn’t have to imply that you don’t want to marry her.”

Eric nodded, already envisioning a world where he would be free to marry Ariel. Where he and Margaret could split and maybe even one day laugh at this misunderstanding and odd adventure. Where, even if that wasn’t possible, Eric could preserve peace for his country and bring peace to himself.

He had spent near half a year now so focused on the future, so steeped in the idea that he needed to preempt conflicts before they had even started to bud. And all he wanted was the present, anyway; all he wanted was his time with Ariel, in a stable kingdom, taking care of all he loved. Perhaps, with careful planning and a bit of luck, he could get what he wanted after all.

“I’m sorry I snapped at you, Lottie.” Eric said.

“You’re under a lot of pressure Eric.” Carlotta said, forgiving him. “Perhaps you’d be under less if you only faced problems as they came, not before they even presented themselves.”

…

Margaret still couldn’t escape the unsettling feeling that would overcome her when she went to get her potion from Ursula. Maybe it was the too-quiet maids, or the winding halls, or the fact that the woman was able to seem so old while still being relatively young. She seemed as though she’d lived a thousand lives, and knew more about Margaret than she would ever know about herself.

“Hello, Duchess Ursula.”

Ursula smiled. She had been so excited for their meeting ever since she had come to the decision that Ariel was indeed a threat, and one that needed to be handled as completely as possible. She had spent some time mulling over exactly what would appropriate, but the solution was really quite easy. All that Ursula needed to accomplish was to ensure that Margaret and Eric married, and she could carry out the rest.

“Hello, dear.” Ursula produced the small bottle of potion.

Margaret held out her hand, as she always did, in order to accept the potion and leave, with as little delay as Ursula would permit.

“You’ll recall, I’m sure, that I have yet to ask you for a favor.” Ursula said, wrapping her fingers around the potion.

Margaret’s heart dropped into her stomach – she knew this moment would come eventually, but she had dreaded it so. “Yes.” She said simply, hoping that the topic would perhaps be glossed over.

“Well, now it is time for you to do something to benefit me, as I have been so benefitting you.”

Margaret gulped. “Of course, duchess.”

“Move your wedding up. As early as possible, but you must be married by May first.”

Margaret’s mouth dropped open – she had been trying to delay the marriage as long as possible, how on earth was she supposed to convince anyone that she suddenly couldn’t wait to be wed to Eric?

“Why?” Margaret demanded.

Ursula gave her a creeping smiled. “Our deal never permitted you to ask me questions. It would do you well to remember that.” Ursula held the little bottle by the neck, raising an eyebrow. “Do whatever it takes to get your way – throw a fit, threaten war.”

Margaret balked at this. “I’ll set the date.” She said, defeated. She took the little bottle, because why try to delay the inevitable at the cost of something she couldn’t live without?

Ursula smiled; again, she had taken what she needed.

…

“Eric.” Margaret said sternly, following him into the parlor after dinner.

Eric didn’t particularly pick up on her tone. “Yes?”

“We haven’t picked a wedding date yet.” She said, stepping in front of him.

“No, I’m sure we’ll do that soon.” Eric shrugged, trying to step beyond her.

She stepped to the side and cut off his escape. “I want to be married soon.”

“Okay.” Eric said, not looking at her.

“May first, Eric. We’re getting married May first.”

“Margaret, it’s already March. It takes so long to pull these sorts of things together, why don’t we just-“

“You can’t keep putting me off, Eric!” Margaret snapped, yelling at him for the first time.

Eric noticed this and stumbled back. “Margaret, I-“

“You agreed to this engagement just as much as I did!” Margaret continued. “I’m not going to just hang around and wait while you flit around the kingdom until you decide you can settle for me. We’re getting married May first, Eric. Or I’m writing my father. Whatever consequences come from that will be your fault.”

She didn’t want to hear Eric’s response; but she already knew what it was. It didn’t matter what retorts he hand – he couldn’t talk her out of this, because she was doing it without wanting to. She turned on her heel and rushed out the door and up to her room, throwing herself on her bed. Was it worth it? Truly? She had just fought for her own undoing, and won. If only she had the privilege of fighting for only herself.

…

Ariel seldom got letters, now that she had stopped receiving notes from Eric like she had in the summer. The two started to operate more on a system where they’d agree to meet up at certain places at certain times so, while they were still communicating, they weren’t writing. It was very peculiar, then, for Ariel to receive a letter at all, but it was especially strange for her to receive a letter in foreign handwriting, and without a return address or a stamp. It had been hand-delivered.

_Dear Ariel,_

_I recall some reference to a sapphire necklace that belonged to your dear, late mother. I have a wonderful surprise for you, you dear, dear girl. I’m sorry I was not able to show it to you earlier, but my collection has grown since our meeting. And I think you will be most pleased with the lovely necklace I have hunted down!_

_Now, it is being sent to me so I won’t have it for a little bit, but I simply couldn’t wait to tell you that I had located it! I’ll send another letter when you can come and pick it up, and don’t worry about the cost! It means so much to me to do something like this for a sweet girl such as yourself._

The letter was signed with a heart, and Ariel screamed. The collector had found her mother’s necklace! Somehow, through her incredible power and ability, she had been able to hunt down what Ariel had desired most. Oh, she just had to tell Eric! Grabbing her cloak, she saddled up her horse and started riding down.

She and her horse knew the route by heart by now and were able to move quickly and swiftly. Ariel’s horse was comfortable being boarded in the royal stables, and anyone who worked there knew the horse, even if they weren’t sure as to the owner. Picking up her skirts, she half-ran into the palace. She had no idea where Eric might be, so she was relying on sheer luck. She knew his favorite places by now and poked her head in his two favorite parlors, his bedroom, and then headed out for a small bridge that overlooked the ocean. Fortunately, but almost predictably, he was there.

Ariel smiled as she ran toward him, listening to the slow melody he played. “How’s it goin’, flute boy?”

Eric gave her a sad smile. “Hello, Ariel.”

Ariel furrowed her brow. “That didn’t hurt your feelings, did it?”

“No, no.” Eric sighed.

“Good!” Ariel exclaimed, jumping a little. “Because I have fantastic news.”

Eric tried to look excited for her, he did, but Ariel could tell something was still wrong.

“What is it?” Ariel asked. “Did something happen?”

Eric nodded and turned toward her. He looked a familiar sad, and the resonance of it created dread within her. “I was gonna do it, Ariel.” He said, looking out over the ocean. “After all these months of being so afraid of future conflicts, of acting in a way I hoped would preempt war, I started to wonder – was it really worth it? When I thought that Margaret was coming for this engagement at any cost, and that a slight to her family meant the loss of my people, absolutely. I don’t regret that, though I did hate being in that position. But the months passed, the seasons changed, and with that changed my perception of Margaret, and what exactly she wanted. I never loved her, but you know that. Hell, I don’t even think I really liked her. I have a lot of resentment for her, though there’s no basis for my dislike of her beyond that her presence keeps us apart, so I can’t be sure. I don’t think often enough of her to sort through those feelings, and I never cared to. But it seemed that she felt the same way about me – an ambivalence, a sense of being just as forced into this as I was. And I kept loving you all the while, loving you more and more that I felt a greater need to take the risks in order to be with you at all, in any way. And nothing happened – she didn’t complain that we hardly spend time together, she never looks for me during the day, there was no pressure to be a better fiancé, to be the type of fiancé I’d want to be with-“ he gave a shuttering sigh and turned to Ariel.

Ariel bit her lip and kept looking at him. Deep in her heart, she knew where this was going. She had feared it since their reconciliation. But she dared not speak, out of fear of drawing her fears into existence. As soon as those words were spoken aloud, they were true. Ariel would try to stay in these last few moments, for she feared they’d be the end of an era.

“I had come to terms with the fact that breaking my engagement with Margaret was a risk worth taking. I was going to test the waters tonight; bring up the idea of postposing the engagement to see how she took to that. If she was neutral or positive about the idea, I would bring up the idea of breaking it off a few weeks after, for the sake of her pride. Perhaps,” he laughed without humor here, “she would beat me to it, and break it off with me for making her wait so long. I was so nervous, Ariel. I didn’t know if I had the diplomacy to do this. We retreated to the parlor after dinner. She’ll usually pick up a book or sit down quietly; we barely acknowledge each other. But not today. God, it was like she knew. She marched in and stepped in front of me…and demanded we set a wedding date. At first, I thought she was just upset that it was taking so long, so I tried to push it off a bit. But she was angry, she was legitimately _upset_ that we weren’t wed yet. And, worst of all, she threatened war if we weren’t met soon. There’s no ambiguity anymore; there’s no more grey area where I can dream that this will all work out. Margaret and I are getting married May first.”

Ariel wanted to object, she wanted to run through every possibility – is it possible he was misinterpreting her mood? Could she have been mad about something else? Would she perhaps be calmed down the next day? Was there any other way out? But Ariel saw sunsets in Eric’s eyes and could tell that he wouldn’t have told her this if it wasn’t really, truly over. He had wanted this to work out just as much as she did, she knew that.

“I-I don’t know what to say.” She said quietly, truthfully.

Eric pulled Ariel into a close hug and rested his chin on her head. “I’m sorry I couldn’t fix this. As soon as I thought I had a chance, it was too late.”

“Will I ever see you again?” Ariel asked, hearing Eric’s sharp intake of breath.

“I don’t know. Not in the same way, I know that. If Margaret wants to actually be married she won’t permit any…grey area.” He said, weighing the term lightly. “We’re just going to have to live with what we had, I suppose.”

“No!” Ariel exclaimed, surprising even herself. “That’s not good enough! I can’t live with just a past Eric, not anymore!”

“I’m sorry, Ariel. I don’t know how I’m going to, either. Please, if you can think of anything, anything at all.”

“Just risk it!” Ariel insisted, selfishly but sincerely. “Eric, you are the best thing for your people, you are what they need the most! I know they’d fight if it came to that, but I know it won’t because you’re smart and diplomatic and you’ll find another way out! She may be mad, but it has to calm down sometime!”

Eric looked down. “I can’t do that to them. If even one person died because of my weakness and my selfishness, it would be one wasted life too many. Even if they volunteered, even if the conflict ended straight after, even if everything else worked out. If there were almost any other stakes, Ariel.”

“But there aren’t.” she said sadly.

“I know. I still love you, Ariel. I promise I always will.”

Ariel left after that – what else could be said? What else could be done? She got her horse and went to the low path, down by the shoreline. She looked back and saw Margaret come out and speak with Eric. They didn’t stand closely to each other, their body language was stiff and formal. Neither of them looked at each other, or touched even once.

Ariel watched them in the setting light, and squinted as it all reflected off what was left of the winter’s melting snow. She had a sudden, piercing vision of another white day, one that was coming closer and she was powerless to stop. He had wanted to stop it but, more importantly, he had tried. Somehow, that made all of this worse.

 


	4. Spring

Flowers were blooming, trees were budding, life was beginning anew for the whole world – except for one. Ariel had scrubbed herself into a presentable person and sat in a wooden pew, hands folded on her lap, feet crossed. She sat at the very end of the pew, next to Andrina, who was next to Adella, who was next to Artista, who continued up through her sisters and to her father, who sat on the other end of the pew, falsely feeling quite proud that his business was important enough to the kingdom that he was invited to the _wedding_ of the _prince_.

It was May first; the unchallenged worst day of Ariel’s life, redone in tragedy. And, as always, it seemed that no one knew it but her. Of course she wasn’t the only one who knew that today was the day her mom died – as she was the youngest, she was the least aware that anything had happened on that day when her mom left and didn’t come back. She was the one spared the shocks of pain that came when you really knew what it meant to die. As far as she could remember, her mother just stopped coming back – the details came later, however painfully they came. No one had mentioned that today; everyone woke up cheered by the idea that they would be attending the royal wedding and reception. Ariel didn’t mean to be cruel, she knew in her heart that her sisters and father knew this was the anniversary of their mother’s death. But she still resented them for being unwilling to bring it up.

And now life had concentrated tragedy, forcing her to watch as she lost another great source of love.

The minister continued speaking, in a tone low and soothing enough that Ariel was quite able to tune it out. This was the moment in storybooks where someone would leap through the doors and stop the wedding, or that the bride would reveal herself to be a monster in disguise the whole time. But as the ceremony pressed on, Ariel realized that only three people had the power to stop this wedding; the one in the white gown, who had demanded the date, the once forced by obligation to stand up there with her, and herself, squished into a pew, watching the man she loves look down at his feet while his vows were being read to him.

She could do it; she could end this. It would be messy, perhaps disastrous, but she could stand up and cry out “I object!”. She saw it in her mind’s eye so clearly – she would push herself up and everyone would turn to look at her. It wouldn’t matter because she and Eric would be looking at each other, and they’d both know that this had to be done. That their being together could be inhibited or delayed but never stopped.

And what if it truly worked? What if Margaret backed down and allowed her and Eric to be happy, if she really understood what was at stake here? What if she was only goading Eric because she thought this was the only option? It was far-fetched, sure, but if there was any chance it should be taken, yes?

Goddammit, _she was gonna do it_.

If Margaret pushed back considerably, more than would be reasonable for someone protecting their pride – and Ariel was not exactly sure of where that line was – then she’d back down. Come up with a plan B. But she was going to stand in the middle of the church and cry out, just as soon as the love of her life said those faithful words –

“I do.”

Ariel deflated, dropping into her seat without realizing she had ever actually rose.

“You may now kiss the bride!”

Ariel didn’t see their awkward embrace; that was too much. It was all too much already. She stood as she meant to and turned down the side aisle and scurried out of the church and out into the gardens, sinking on the side of the building. She buried her head into her arms and tried to gulp back tears. It was all really over, and neither of them wanted it that way. That made it worse. It wasn’t something they could choose or bounce back from.

“Honey?”

Ariel lifted her head and looked into the widened eyes of her sister.

“Oh, Adella!” she moaned, leaning into her sister. “I don’t know why I went. I never should’ve gone. That was terrible.”

Adella wrapped her arms around her sister. “Why didn’t you stop it?”

“I don’t know! She threaded to go to war with us if they didn’t marry and, God, shouldn’t that have been enough? But I still wanted to stand up and object but I didn’t make up my mind in time, I didn’t have the nerve I needed.”

“Ariel, you mustn’t beat yourself up too much. That was a very sensible decision.”

“But it wasn’t!” Ariel insisted. “Nothing bad would’ve come of me saying that, even if she had been mad enough to keep her threat, I know Eric would’ve worked it out! I know he’s the best ruler the country could have!”

“But he was understandably concerned-“

“The best thing for the country is him! Any country can only thrive when ruled under a man who would give up anything for it. All he does is worry, but it’s for naught!”

Adella hugged and soothed her youngest sister. “First loves are hard. In time it will be in the past.”

“But I don’t want him in the past!” Ariel wailed. “I can’t give him up! I don’t want him to marry her!”

“Oh Ariel.” Adella hummed, petting Ariel’s hair. “He already has.”

…

Ursula took the opportunity to demand another one of her owed favors – a room in the castle; the ability to stay and watch over the new couple, though she didn’t explain that part to Margaret. She didn’t explain anything to Margaret, really. Margaret owed her, and the girl understood that enough to act accordingly.

It wasn’t a completely strange request – foreign royalty and dignitaries were also staying a night or two, depending on how far away their country was. When Eric had been asked if there would be a room available he had furrowed his brow (Ursula was a duchess of the country? She had a home within a few mines of the castle?) but ultimately agreed. He had already signed over everything that mattered, why not a room in his home? Whatever.

Ursula had watched via necklace as he pursed his lips to object but faded instead. Any fight he had was gone. The rest of her plan would be easy, as she would always be cautious. Ariel was handled. Margaret was queen. Eric was broken. All that was left to do was to wait for night to fall, to see how things would play out; would Eric and Margaret try to develop any fondness for each other, now that they had no other choice? How would Eric spend his final evening?

The palace was a nice place, though Ursula did prefer the comfort of her own manor. Her stay here was not a matter of luxury, but necessity. She was put in a far-off wing, probably intended to be some sort of slight, but it didn’t matter. If anything, it only helped – allowing her to scheme in peace. It wasn’t even that terrible of an insult – the castle was large and everyone was scattered far off. It was clear the prince did not have it in him to socialize with anyone, even if it was only while passing them in the hallway of his own home.

Ursula sat on the perimeter of the party, sipping her drink and watching the forced interactions. Only six of the Triton daughters had remained at the party, but no one else seemed to notice this. The party carried on as if this was just an ordinary royal wedding, and everyone celebrated as though the bride and groom both wanted it to happen.

Eric and Margaret were as awkward as ever, dancing the necessary dances but staying away from each other otherwise. There were no stolen kisses, no standing close, no dancing extra dances or interacting with other couples. Eric spoke with people, Margaret spoke with people, but the couple of Eric and Margaret seldom interacted. Toasts were given and glasses clinked and while the couple was always cordial and the individuals always polite, dread crossed both their faces before they ever had to touch.

They were free for only moments, to dress for bed. Margaret took advantage of these last few moments of freedom, walking slowly through the halls. Margaret walked to her bedroom to change into her nightgown and move downstairs. In time her stuff would be moved as well, but she had insisted that everything stay in her room with her until the last possible moment. Her head hung low as she pushed open the door.

“What are you planning to wear?”

Margaret gasped and exclaimed “Oh my God!”, clamping her hands over her mouth.

“Settle down dear, you should have come to expect me by now.” Ursula rolled her eyes.

“Sorry I’m a little on edge that you’re in my bedroom!” Margaret snapped.

“This isn’t your bedroom.” Ursula said, calmly but unsettlingly. “This is your dressing room. Now, what are you going to wear?”

“They had something made.” Margaret huffed over to the dressing screen, where a nightgown was indeed hanging.

 She stepped behind the screen and Ursula waited as Margaret changed out of her robe (a group of servants had helped her out of her wedding dress but an hour earlier) and into the thin gown.

“Does this meet your approval, _Duchess_?” Margaret emerged, holding her arms out.

Now, her sarcasm was a little out of turn but due to the girl’s immense stress and the fact that Ursula had everything else she wanted, she decided to let it go. The most important thing was there – the little crystal necklace hanging around her neck.

“Fit for a queen.” Ursula said, pushing herself up and leaving.

…

Margaret walked downstairs nervously. She knew the way, but felt as though she could be lost at any moment. She sort of hoped that she would. If there was any way for her to just up and disappear, she would do so. It would be a perfect escape: to just evaporate without a trace. No one could ask her to be a wife or a queen. Maybe she could dissolve into mist and blow away, up, up to somewhere safer and better; up to somewhere that she wanted to be.

But as she was lost in her thoughts, he feet kept moving to Eric’s – to _their_ – bedroom. In time, she found herself at the door. Was it still considered rude to just walk in if this was her castle and her room now? She decided to push the door open slowly, giving Eric a chance to yell if needed a few more minutes.

Sadly, he said nothing.

“Hello.” She nodded at him as he sat on the edge of the bed, pulling off his boots.

“Hello.” He said back, as though they were meeting for only the first time.

Margaret didn’t like this room – none of these things were hers, this husband was hers in name only. She didn’t like the color and the sound of the ocean seemed to ominously creep closer, as if it was going to wash in and drown her. She fingered the charm of her necklace and shut the door behind her, wondering what exactly was expected of her next.

“Do you want to sit down?” Eric asked, in the gentlest tone she had heard him yet use.

She didn’t. “Sure.” She plodded over to the edge of the bed, tucking her legs to the side.

There was silence inside, there was ocean outside, there was nothing there.

Neither had pictured their wedding night to be this way, but that was really too bad, wasn’t it? This was the lot they had to deal with. Neither of them moved; neither wanted to. There was nothing to do, to say – they both knew what was expected of them, and while both were acutely aware of the icy acceptance between them, neither was aware of how much the other did not want them.

Eric leaned in a little and, out of pure instinct, Margaret jumped back.

“If you don’t want me to touch you, I won’t.” Eric said, scooting back.

Margaret wondered for a second if it was a trap. It was their wedding night! There were some places, she knew, where people would come into the room or stand outside the door to ensure that consummation took place. It was expected of both of them and while the kingdom’s culture was not quite like that, it was still expected. And, as a queen, she was bound to those expectations, right?

Was he just testing her, somehow? If the marriage wasn’t consummated it was easily annulled, especially if it was Eric swearing to that. If she resisted or rejected him, maybe things would be harder for her in the palace. Maybe he’d begin to question why he had pushed her to get married. Maybe he’d cut off her access to the duchess. Maybe they’d go to war.

But, then again, maybe he was genuinely giving her a choice.

She didn’t love Eric, or even like him more than she would any acquaintance, but that didn’t mean she thought he was a villain. He didn’t trick her into marriage, he wasn’t the one threatening war, and he was not only _not_ in love with her, but he didn’t even seem to want her.

Margaret looked up at him. “I don’t.”

“Okay.” Eric nodded, no emotion coming through his voice. He scooted to one side of the bed and rolled to his side.

Margaret sat there, wondering what effects this decision would have. Would it be brought up tomorrow? Was he mad? Relieved? She stewed for but a moment before realizing that, frankly, she didn’t care. She tugged back the sheets and rolled under, turning her back to him and going to bed.

…

Ariel was really a very privileged girl, despite the metaphorical cloud of darkness she carried over herself now. It showed in her lifestyle and past, and it showed when she got another crisply-folded, hand-delivered letter in her mailbox.

“Ariel, hun? You got a letter.” Adella called up the stairs.

Ariel was laying on her bed, blending a charcoal sketch to create a fold in the figure’s skirt. It was mindless, easy work and she had hardly noticed what she had been drawing. She didn’t even hear Adella call.

“Ariel?” Adella yelled again, then sighed. She picked up her skirts and walked to the bedroom door. “Didn’t you hear me?” she asked, pushing open the door.

“Huh? Oh, no. Must not have.” Ariel said, sitting up.

“You got a letter. There’s no return address.” Adella held out the sealed parchment.

Ariel looked up at her sister. “Thank you.”

Adella nodded and turned.

“For everything, really.” Ariel added.

Adella smiled, but kept walking. She knew Ariel didn’t want her to give that comment attention.

Ariel settled back into her pillows and opened the letter, scanning it quickly.

 

_Dear Ariel,_

_It’s official, I have the necklace you wanted so dearly. I know I’m a little bit of a hike for you, so I’m sorry to say this, but I won’t be able to see you until tonight – after the sun sets. But I know it’ll be worth it, so come by then and you can have the very thing you want the most._

 

The necklace!

Ariel sat up straighter. Tonight, this very night, she would get what she desired most! She looked at the clock – it was still midmorning, that was still quite a wait. But what else did she have to wait for?

“Ariel?” Adella poked her head back into the room.

“Yes?”

“Is the letter from…” Adella trailed off, but Ariel understood.

“No.” Ariel says. “We don’t really have much contact anymore.”

Adella slumped her shoulders. “Do-do you miss him?”

“It doesn’t matter.” Ariel said with a sharp shake of her head. “Everything is different now, and I’ve got too much other stuff to be concerned about.” She waved the paper. “Like this letter.”

She could go back, you know. She could spend her days collecting and building up the shed with memories and concepts she hadn’t fully developed. It’s not as if her life was over, but maybe her time with Eric was just a detour from what she was really supposed to be doing. Maybe her life was to be one for preserving, for recreating and revealing in memories.

“What is it?”

“A collector that Er-that I had gone to see. She wrote to tell me that she’s found something I’ve been looking for.” Ariel clamped the letter to her chest and looked up at her sister. “I don’t want to explain this to our other sisters, ‘Della, will you help me sneak out tonight? Will you not tell them?”

“And you’ve met this collector before?” Adella asked.

“Oh yes. She’s very sweet – an older woman who just likes looking for things, like me. We’ve met and she was perfectly nice and helpful. And I’d really, really like this item.”

“On one condition,” Adella said, holding out her pinkie for a pinkie promise. “you have to show me what you got when you get back.”

Ariel beamed and linked her pinkie with Adella’s. “Deal!”

“Just stay safe, Ariel. Okay? I know the kingdom is safe and you’re smart and tough and everything else, but just be careful. I’ll help you sneak out but I can’t keep you safe.”

“Don’t worry, Adella. I’ll just ride over to the collector’s and come straight back. Nothing could be safer than that.”

…

“You know, I think I’d prefer a room away from the sea.” Margaret said the next morning, rather meekly, over breakfast.

“Oh, uh.” Eric said dumbly. What was he supposed to do? Offer to move them? To drain the ocean? To tell her that it was _not_ a sea, and that was in fact quite different from an ocean? Keep eating?

“And, if you wouldn’t mind, of course, I was thinking that maybe I could sleep in the room across the hall?”

Eric’s heart leapt up – finally, she made a suggestion he liked! “I think that could be very easily arranged.”

Margaret smiled a little at this and turned back to her meal.

“Would you like me to have all your stuff moved down?” Eric asked.

“No, not yet.” Margaret shrugged. In time, she hoped she could move back to that room. But she knew there could be consequences to hurting his pride, and that she had used any leeway and power she had in order to get them married in the first place. She found herself confused by this notion – she hadn’t wanted to marry him in the first place, and now here she was, with a husband who couldn’t be more indifferent towards her. She, just for a second, couldn’t seem to remember why she had done it.

Eric was pleased with this as well – last night had been so incredibly awkward. He sat as close as he could to the edge of the bed, back to his wife, eyes closed and body unmoving, even when he wasn’t sleeping. He wanted her out of the room, out of the palace, out of his life. But this was a good start. He couldn’t have everything he wanted, but at least he could have his own bed tonight.

…

Even better.

Ursula knew she could kill without being caught, and she did not doubt her skills now. She could’ve murdered Eric tonight if Margaret was all tangled up with him, and the girl wouldn’t have realized what had happened before it was too late. She was oblivious to all Ursula and already done to her, what was one more step?

Now that Margaret had removed herself from Eric’s bed there was no one to watch over him, no possible crack in the plan. Everyone was removed and tonight, Ursula would strike.

She pulled a dagger from her bedside table and admired how it glinted in the sun. Soon, it would be stained red, and she would practically be queen.

…

Darkness had already fallen when Ariel tip-toed out of the room.

“The maids will check the locks when they go to bed in like half an hour. I’ll lock the door behind you, so they don’t know that anything’s amiss. I’ll stay up here, and when you need to get back in just throw a rock at my window.”

Ariel gave a quick nod. “Got it. Thank you so much, Adella.”

Adella hugged her sister. “Be safe!”

Ariel scurried out of the house and to the stables, mounting her horse and trotting off as quietly as she could manage. The ride wasn’t exactly short, but she knew the way to the collectors from Eric’s castle so she figured if she headed the way she knew, she’d remember how to get there. This path, at least, was now so very familiar to her. How many times had she ridden to the castle that summer?

She still missed that summer, but not in the same way. Now, there was more of fondness for it than a longing for it. She didn’t want to relive that summer, mainly because that summer ended. That wasn’t what she wanted with Eric; their days together were precious and perfect, but they were few.

Even their days of fighting, or the days where Margaret was slowly pulling them apart, they were at least together. It was something, and something was better than nothing. Ariel dipped her head forward, sighing. That wasn’t a part of her life anymore, she didn’t have him. Her life was back to before that ball; she was collecting and growing her memories of the past. It was like nothing had happened. She continued riding.

Except it had! Her life was different, she was different now. Of course she still wanted the necklace, she wasn’t ready to let go of the past, but she needed more now. It wasn’t enough to exist with what she had, she needed a future. She needed something – someone. Yes she could live without Eric, she had _been_ living without him, but she didn’t _want_ to.

Ariel pulled back on the reins a little. _Oh, fuck it_. She pulled the horse around and snapped the reins. She would go, they would talk. She knew him, he was probably just getting ready for bed now. She knew where his room was, and she knew how to get to it. She would do this quickly, she would see what exactly they could have – whatever it was. Even if they were platonic for the rest of their lives, it was a relationship. A fulfilling one. A future.

She needed to do this now, while she still had the nerve. If she thought too much she’d worry and it’d all come undone and she’d just end up an old woman who would always wonder if she should’ve gone to the castle on this starry night. This had to be done; she had learned her lesson when she didn’t stop this wedding in the first place.

Tying her horse where she usually did, she picked up her skirts with a sudden haste and panic and ran towards the beach side of the castle. She didn’t know why she was moving quickly all of the sudden, but she felt a sudden pressing to.

…

Margaret had retired early, ducking into her room about twenty minutes prior. Ursula watched as she changed into her nightgown, brushed and tied off her hair, and rolled into bed. The candle was blown out, and her necklace’s view turned to darkness. Ursula waited. Margaret was asleep.

Ursula polished her knife with the hem of her robe and tucked it in her pocket. She pushed back her hair and slipped on socks, creeping out of the door. The castle was silent – the staff had mostly retired for the evening and anyone who was still working was tucked away in the wings, polishing or mending or doing something else that made little noise and kept them out of common areas.

She kept her head low and slunk down the halls, making virtually no noise and drawing no attention. Each step down the stairs was a _slid, thump. Slid, thump._ She deftly curved around the banister and stood in front of Eric’s bedroom door. She paused. There was no noise from either room – his or Margaret’s. She looked up and down the halls to see if anyone was coming; if anyone would see her.

There was no noise. There was no one coming. Ursula would take her third life tonight.

…

Ariel ran down the beach and up to Eric’s bedroom window. He had the same curtains and the window was open – he only did that while he was in the room. He had made a joke to her once that a seagull had flown in and tried to steal his things, so he didn’t want to give it another chance. She wasn’t thinking; she was only acting. Sure, it was strange to just hoist herself through his window, but if she stopped to consider the validity and normalcy of this decision then she might start considering why she came here at all, and she didn’t want to leave. She was half-mad with frenzy but she knew in her heart of hearts that she didn’t want to leave. She had to do this. She wanted to. She couldn’t stop just because it didn’t make sense.

She pulled the starfish ribbon out of her pocket and tied her hair back. She took a deep breath and grabbed the window ledge.

“Eric!”  she cried, propping herself up and sitting herself on the windowsill. She looked into the window and screamed.

Drenched in moonlight, Duchess Ursula loomed over Eric’s body. The two locked eyes and Ariel looked at the woman…and her glinting knife, covered in blood. Ursula’s lips pulled over her teeth into a snarl and she rose the dagger again.

“No!” Ariel screamed, launching herself off the windowsill and at Ursula. She pushed the woman down and the two tumbled off the bed and onto the floor.

Ursula writhed beneath her and pointed the dagger at Ariel. Ariel grabbed Ursula’s wrist with both of her hands, pushing the dagger away from herself.

“Help!” Ariel screamed to no one in particular. She was straddling a woman who was trying to stab her and her knuckles hurt from trying to keep the knife away from her belly. The love of her life was bleeding on his bed four feet away from her and he hadn’t moved or spoken or if he had she hadn’t heard because someone was screaming and she was only now aware that it was her.

Ariel pushed the knife back and yanked it up, freeing it from Ursula’s grasp just as the door was thrown open. Three guards ran in and pulled Ariel off of Ursula, tearing the knife from her hand and dragging her onto the ground.

“Is he okay? Is he okay?” Ariel asked, struggling to see onto the bed.

“Ariel-“ Eric said, unmoving. There was a guard already at his side, lighting candles and applying pressure to a wound that was somewhere on his torso. “Let’er go” he slurred, moving slightly.

“Stay still.” A guard said – firmly, though clearly uncomfortable with the idea of ordering the prince to do anything.

The guard that was holding Ariel released her.

“She tried to kill him!” Ariel exclaimed pointing at Ursula.

Ursula had not yet risen to her feet, still splayed on the ground with fabric pooled around her. She sneered up at Ariel, unmoving. The air was heavy and the room was silent when Margaret finally came in.

“What’s going on in here?” Margaret yelled, wrapping her robe around herself.

Ariel had never hated Margaret. Resented her, been angry with her, envied her. But now she turned. “Where were you?” she said, throwing down her arms. “Eric has been stabbed and Ursula just strolled right in here and _you_ _weren’t_ -“

“You _what_?!” Margaret screeched, her mouth agape. Ursula had been bound up by the guards and was being held back by two men. “I trusted you! I came to you and you said you were going to help me and you-“

“Were you involved with her?” Ariel demanded.

The free guard left the room in a great hurry and the other two held Ursula still. Ursula was calm and still, staring unblinkingly at Ariel. Ariel didn’t notice this, too focused on dealing with Margaret.

“No-I mean, I knew her and we’ve been meeting-“

“Did you plan this with her? Were you going to kill him?” Ariel said, emotion choking her voice. “What was your plan? Were you going to kill him to be queen?”

“No!” Margaret yelled. “Of course not! I never knew that this was going to happen, I never asked her to-“

“Was it a trade? If she killed him, if she did the dirty work, you’d give her – what? Money? Power? Influence?”

Three guards came into the room, followed by a woman with a small carpetbag. The woman sat next to Eric, ordering more light, more light. ‘He’s coming out of shock’, she said.

“No!” Margaret insisted, tears springing to her eyes. “I didn’t mean to harm anyone!”

“Then why were you seeing her? Why did you have meetings with her? Why weren’t you here? Why weren’t you here?”

The nurse opened Eric’s nightshirt and began cleaning up the blood with fabric scraps. The guards dragged off Ursula, who went, so confidently, with them. She did not resist. She knew she didn’t need to. The other guards followed, containing the danger rather than bothering with the feud.

“She was helping me!”

“With this?”

“No! To be queen! She…she made me these potions and they made me a better ruler and-“

“She’s a witch?” Ariel said softly.

It had been such a long running joke, between all the young girls who were anywhere in society. The Duchess was dramatic and aloof and haughty and standoffish. She hung by herself in balls, she never looked you in the eye unless she was speaking down to you. She cupped the crystal ball on her walking stick but never needed it for support. She was too weird to be fully human _. She was a witch_ one girl had suggested – who remembers who? Or when? She just was. It was a joke, it was supposed to be funny.

Margaret’s face fell. “I suppose so.”

“Why would you go to her?” Ariel demanded. “What was worth it?”

“I needed something.” Margaret said breathlessly. “I couldn’t do it on my own. Every day was getting harder before I got those potions. Every day was getting harder before I got those potions. Every day was hard after, but at least it plateaued.”

Eric pushed himself up. “I’m fine, I’m fine.”

“Eric!” Ariel sighed, taking one leap onto the bed and burying her face into his neck. “Oh my god. Are you okay?” Ariel pulled back her head and looking at Eric.

“He will be.” The doctor answered for him. She smiled and rose. “I’ll be back in an hour – I need to get more supplies. It’s an ugly wound, and it’ll probably scar, but it didn’t hit anything it shouldn’t have. By all accounts, it’s just a terrible cut with a lot of blood loss. Try not to move too much. Do not leave the bed. We’ll have someone come clean up once I know you’re okay.” The woman loaded up her bag and left, shutting the door behind her.

Margaret watched as Eric inhaled sharply from the pain, but wrapped his arms around Ariel and rested his chin on top of her head. She watched them sit there, almost completely oblivious to everything. Ariel lifted her hand and looked at her palm in the glowing light. It was streaked with red; her lover’s blood staining her.

“I don’t love him.” Margaret said, her words like ghosts.

The two looked over.

“I don’t want to be queen. I never did. I went to Ursula because I was afraid, I didn’t mean for this to end up that way. Any of this.” Margaret almost mumbled.

“You’re the one who pushed for the marriage.” Eric furrowed his brow, snapping.

“You’re the one who proposed.” Margaret shrugged, tears in her eyes. “I don’t have the power here, Eric. I’m the youngest daughter, I’m the woman, I’m the one who was sent over to a larger, stronger, country. One that’s bested us before. I needed whatever help I could get. If it came in potions, if it came in hexes, all that married was that it came.”

“You could’ve said this, I could’ve-“

“It’s not too late.” Margaret said hurriedly. “I’ve thought about it all day. The marriage can be annulled.” She bit her lip. “It was never consummated. It doesn’t have to be.”

It dawned over Eric quickly. It really took all of this stress and strife and pain to bring them to this point, but she was right. The marriage could end. It was a legitimate reason, and had been the end of marriages before. Sure, there would be gossip, but did that really matter? If Margaret didn’t want to marry him, then the kingdom’s security would not be threatened.

“And…if we were to annul the marriage…” Eric said, trying to sit up a bit more.

Ariel put a hand on his chest and pushed him down. “Rest.”

“…would there be any issue with Glauerhaven, in terms of waring or conflict of any capacity?”

“Not by my doing.” Margaret said quickly. “I don’t want to make promises I can’t keep but I will use all my power and influence to stop my father from going to war. I don’t want this Eric. I can’t begin to explain my relief that you don’t either.”

…

Ariel couldn’t fully articulate why she was pulled to the dungeons. In time, the doctor came back and shooed the girls out, saying she needed to properly examine and patch up Eric and she needed to do so without two girls looming and watching. Margaret, fully shaken by the events of the evening, retreated to her bedroom and went promptly to sleep. Ariel trailed down the hallways until she stumbled into one of the guards who was in the room.

“Is all well, miss?” he asked politely.

“Yes, as well as it can be.” She said, only half-present. “Please take me to Ursula.”

He frowned. “I don’t believe I can do that.”

“Why not?”

“I don’t think that’s proper.”

“I don’t think that’s for you to decide. Do take me, please.”

The man bit his lip and shifted his weight. Was she going on orders? Was he allowed to question the…ex-girlfriend? Friend? Mistress Of the soon-to-be-king? Could any harm actually come to her, seeing how as Duchess Ursula was behind bars and unable to escape?

“Alright, I suppose.” He gave a quick nod and jerked his head as an indication to follow.

They went through several hallways and down two flights of stairs, hitting the bedrock of the castle. The floors were cobblestone and there were many cells – all empty but one. The dungeons were dry and rather cool. Ariel was especially careful to not touch the walls as she chill affected her.

“Please leave us.”

“Miss-“

“ _Go_.” Ariel said firmly.

Faced with the same confusion about orders and propriety, the guard just gave another nod and walked back up the stairs. Again, Duchess Ursula was behind bars and if anything were to go wrong he already knew the girl had the sense to scream for help. He could get down the stairs again before anything truly nefarious could happen.

“Why have you come, dear? Surely you don’t need a potion as well.” Ursula harrumphed.

“Surely I don’t.” Ariel said crossly. “I want to know why you did it.”

Ursula was quiet for a while, then gave Ariel a smile so soft it was almost kind. “I’ll explain in good time. But I have a proposition for you.”

“What?” Ariel asked suspiciously.

“Relax, dear. I’m not going to make an unfair deal with you.”

“You did with Margaret!”

“I most certainly did not. She got her potions, I got favors when I needed them.”

“You tried to kill Eric!” Ariel snapped, fists balling at her sides.

“I realize I was too hasty. I was concerned for his ability to rule. He may be stronger than I thought.” Ursula lied.

Ariel furrowed her brow and opened her mouth to speak when Ursula held out her hand again.

“I want to talk to you, because I believe we could both benefit each other.”

“What do you mean?” Ariel asked.

“I’m not a threat, Ariel. I understand there’s no way I could possibly commit that crime again – both strategically and ethically. I understand things are different now. I was doing that as a favor to Margaret, who, in our time together, expressed some very concrete fears.”

“About what?”

“About Eric’s flightiness, his tendency to jump from one thing to another. She is capable of ruling, especially with my help. I’m fond of her Ariel, I wanted to help.”

“By killing?!-“

“You aren’t letting me finish.” Ursula said in her most patient tone. “I understand why people pigeon-hole me as a bad person. I know sometimes my methods are nasty. I remember the jokes you and your friends would make, Ariel.”

Ariel flushed suddenly – despite her hate for this woman, she was still rather embarrassed that she had made fun of her all those times long ago.

“All I’ve ever wanted to do is help Ariel. Despite my unconventional methods, that’s all that I ever sought to do. I get that it can come off as manipulative and, perhaps, it may be. But it was all in pursuit of the greatest good. I know you understand Ariel – haven’t you done wrong things in the pursuit of right? Should you really have been seeing the prince, temping him, luring him away when he was engaged to a woman and doing a service to his country?”

“It’s not like that! It was-“

“ ** _Exactly_**. To outsiders, to people who don’t understand and don’t want to, you yourself would be a villain. But you’re not, Ariel. You’re a girl in love who was put in a very difficult position. But now I want to help you.”

“How?” Ariel asked. Anger still burned in her voice, but she was curious.

Reaching into the pocket of her robes, Ursula pulled out a very familiar necklace. The silver was old and muted, but the gems all still gleamed as though they had only just been cut. The necklace swung a few times until it steadied and Ariel looked at it was a fondness she had never felt for an item.

“You’re not supposed to have that, how did you-“

“Were the letters _signed_ , Ariel?” Ursula pressed. “I want you to have this. I really do. But I need your help as well.”

“What? What do you need?”

“I can’t spend my days in this cage, Ariel. I’m not an animal.” Ursula said. “If you get Eric to release me and drop any charges, I will give you this which you desire most.”

Ariel heard what Ursula said, but was still slow to process it. She was watching the necklace. After all these years it had stayed in the kingdom, after all these years it was still close. It was in perfect condition, just as if it had stayed hanging around her mother’s neck. She didn’t know where Ursula got it. She didn’t particularly care.

“Just talk to the prince. As soon as I see it in writing, it’s yours. No other conditions, no take-backs, no-“

“No.” Ariel breathed, stepping closer to the bars. She kept looking at the necklace.

“No what, dear?”

“I’m not going to do it.” Ariel looked Ursula in the eyes. She couldn’t look at the necklace, she didn’t know if she could do this if she kept looking at the necklace. “I don’t know where or how you got the necklace, and I don’t know the real reason why you tried to kill Eric. It doesn’t matter. There was nothing you could offer me to let you have a chance to hurt him again. I know you’d do something.”

“Then you’ll never see this again.” Ursula snarled, holding the necklace in front of her face. “I won’t just keep it from you. I’ll destroy it. It will be unrecoverable.”

“Well,” Ariel said, stepping back from the bars. “I guess I’m glad I got to see it before you did.”

She walked away slowly; there was time to go back. She never even got to touch it. She would never be closer to that necklace, ever again. She knew Ursula would destroy it.

“huh-AH!” Ursula cried behind her, and there was a crash of the necklace against the stone ground.

Ariel closed her eyes and stopped, laying her head against the cool walls. She heard little gemstones flying and rolling about. She could imagine them glinting as they rolled down slimy drains and as their settings cracked. She wished she had spent more time looking at it. She wished she had noticed more of the details. It was the embodiment of her mother; beauty, strength, calm, elusive. She had searched for it for so long. And it was now worse than missing, it was unrecoverable.

Ariel ran up the stairs.

…

              “Where were you? I thought you were coming straight home?” Adella demanded, gripping Ariel’s arm.

Adella had leapt out of bed at the first _ping!_ of a rock against her window. How could she possibly sleep when her baby sister had run out for ‘oh just a bit! A quick trip! There and back! It’s not even super far!’ and not returned for six hours! She stayed up in her room, checking out the window every few minutes, praying to see a lantern or a flash of red hair. She would close her eyes and try to pass time. It never went by quickly enough.

At the first noise she shot up and checked to ensure that she wasn’t just hearing things. But there, hair tied back and waiting was Ariel. Adella tip toed out of the room with more speed and less caution than she had intended to, running down the stairs and out into the backyard.

“Oh Adella, things changed so quickly.”

“Where did you go?”

“The castle.” Ariel said simply, emotion already welling up in her voice.

“Why?!”

“I don’t know. I didn’t at first, at least. It really felt like it was the right thing; it felt like something I had to do. Oh, Adella. It _was_ right. Come, come. Let’s sit outside a bit. I’ll tell you everything. From the beginning.”

…

Ariel arrived at the castle not the next day, but the day after. This was because she and Adella had sat outside far past the sunrise talking, and the rest of their sisters only assumed that they had awoken early. It wasn’t a lie if Ariel and Adella just failed to correct them, right? Both slept most of that afternoon, relieved that things were sort of coming together. The next morning, Ariel picked a bouquet of flowers and rode over, much more calmly this time.

“How are you feeling?”

It was no issue for her to see Eric, everyone in the castle who was ignorant of their involvement was well aware of it now – gossip spread more quickly when there was an attempted murder tied into it. Upon her arrival to the castle, she was quickly taken to where Eric was resting – or, at least, where he was supposed to be.

“Stab wound is fine. Carlotta’s quarantine is growing exhausting.”

Ariel looked at the room and laughed. There was Eric, positively cocooned up in his bed – there must’ve been seven blankets around him. More quilts laid at the foot of the bed. Only his face poked out. Flowers filled vases all around the room.

“This is stupid. Hold on.” Eric writhed a little to free his shoulders and arms and pulled himself out of the blanket nest.

“Oh, don’t get up.” Ariel said hurriedly, putting her flowers down.

“I’m fine. It’s been a couple days, it wasn’t that big of a wound.” Eric said. “Hurt like hell when I got it though.”

Ariel smiled a little at his flippant attitude. “I’m so sorry.”

“Why on earth are you apologizing?” Eric said, genuinely confused. “If you hadn’t come in, she would’ve killed me for sure. I didn’t even know what was happening until there was already a knife in my body. At that point I was bleeding and frozen and sure I’d be dead soon enough – when she was suddenly knocked from the bed by some red-headed force. How did you know she was going to hurt me?”

“I didn’t.” Ariel said honestly. “Something inside of me just told me I had to come.”

“You’ve given me a chance to finally fix everything, Ariel. That’s worth more than my life, or anything else.” Eric said, sitting up and clasping both of her hands. “Everything got so complicated, and it still is, but it’s still navigable. I love you Ariel.” He pulled himself up with her help.

Ariel’s heart warmed and grew and the warmth seeped throughout her body. But she only said “Can you stand? Is this safe?”

“I can do anything, Ariel. If you’ll help me.”

The two walked down the hall and out the nearest door – which was fortunately close – to the beach. The surf was calm and the tide was high.

“I’m getting the marriage annulled. Margaret and I spoke a little about it yesterday, after you left.”

“Officially?”

“Officially. We spoke, we agreed. We found a way we can both get what we want?”

“What do you mean?” Ariel asked.

Eric took a deep breath and leaned against a boulder that was on the beach. “Sorry.” He mumbled, holding his wound.

“Hey, let’s go back inside-“

“No, I want to be outside. Trust me, I’ve be laying all wrapped up like that for long before you came.”

Ariel giggled a little.

“I writhed myself free like three times but she must have a sense about it or something because each time Carlotta came in and she’d scold me and then remind me how much she loved me and how it was like a shot through her when she was told that I had been stabbed. She started to cry the second time I tried to give up so I pretty much gave up at that point. But I’m pretty sure she’s taking a nap or hunting for that portrait of me as an infant-“

“Ooh I’d like to see that.”

“I’d prefer if you didn’t. She digs it up sometimes. So I think she won’t notice if we’re out here for a while.”

“But what is Margaret going to do?”

“Well she told me that all she really wanted was to go to the nunnery. If she goes back home, she can be a nun formally and still live in the palace, which really seems like a good fit for her. She was even getting excited talking about it. She says she really doesn’t want to get married at all. I’ll tell you, Ariel, I never liked her more than in that moment.”

“So what has to happen?”

“Well, the church has to annul it. Grimsby is handling that since both Margaret and I want it does quickly and, well, there’s still a hole in my torso.”

Ariel knew he was trying to be lighthearted about it, but it still made her quite sad. “I can’t imagine what would’ve happened if I hadn’t come.”

“I really don’t want to think about that.” Eric shook his head. “Did you have a dream or something? How did you know to come?”

“No,” Ariel sighed. “I had gotten a letter that I thought was from the collector. She said that she found my mother’s necklace.”

“Oh my God, really?!” Eric exclaimed happily. “You went to get it, right? Ariel, I’m-“

Ariel held up her hand. Her sad look gave him pause. “It wasn’t from the collector. It was a trick, and I was so excited I didn’t bother to look into it at all. It was Ursula – somehow she knew how I felt about you, somehow she knew I’d protect you. So she tried to lure me to the edges of town at the time she was going to…” she gestured to his wound. “kill you.”

“So she lied to you?” Eric said angrily.

“I almost wish she lied to me more.” Ariel said, leaning against the rock to look up at him. “She did have the necklace.”

“Does she still-“

“And she destroyed it.”

Eric’s face fell and he pulled Ariel in towards his good side. “I’m so sorry.”

Ariel bit her lip and pressed her face into his side. “You don’t know what I’ve given up for you. I didn’t know how much I loved you until I knew I was willing to give it up.”

…

The annulment was a relatively simple process. It took some clever evading and argument in order to convince the church that there was no ill will in the marriage, just misunderstanding. Grimsby handled it as cut and dry and possible – it had not been consummated, and it wouldn’t be. There were more clever lies needed as to explain why the prince could not appear himself. But Grimsby knew that if word were to get out of the murder attempt, there would be worse consequences than the slight of sending a manservant.

The church agreed, as expected, and the marriage was formally and officially annulled. As soon as that occurred, a boat was prepared for Margaret.

“We’ll be sad to see ya go, miss.” A maid said kindly, helping Margaret to pack.

“I feel a greater sense of fondness now that I think I would’ve recalled but a week ago.” Margaret said truthfully. The palace seemed brighter now, and she felt freer in it. “I think I will miss you too.”

“What are you going to do, if it’s not too bold of me to ask?” another maid asked.

Margaret smiled softly, folding nightgowns as she looked out the window. _I’m going to be happy._ “I’m going back home to join the nuns. I’ll see my sisters again.” She laughed. “I’ll have my favorite foods again!” _I don’t have to get married!_

“When are you leaving?”

“As soon as the boat is ready. They have to outfit and inspect it properly, which I do appreciate. I talked to one of the people in charge and they said that the boat would likely be up and running tomorrow morning, and I’ll head off. I already sent a letter to my mother.

“Did she leave that quickly after the wedding?”

“Oh yes, same night. They never liked leaving the palace that much. I can’t say I don’t understand.” She said the second sentence a little more quietly, but meant it all the same.

…

“Goodbye, Eric.” Margaret gave him a hug, the first bit of tenderness between them.

“Goodbye, Margaret.” Eric held her hands for a moment before stepping back. He was in already much better shape, able to stand and walk for longer periods of time. The doctor anticipated he’d be back to functioning as normal within two weeks. She stressed that he really was very lucky.

“Goodbye, Ariel.” Margaret said, offering a hand out to the girl.

Ariel took the hand and pulled the princess in for a hug. “Thank you.” She mumbled very quietly, so that only Margaret could hear it.

Margaret gave a small nod that Eric didn’t even notice and Ariel stepped back to be beside Eric. Things were different now; each looked to their future as a wide-open expanse – a realm of possibilities and opportunities that existed only to be foraged and gained. But in this present moment, such things were unknown to each of them. All there was left was the ability to enjoy the here and now.

Picking up her hems, Margaret strode onto the boat. The sun had only just risen – this was the earliest time for her to depart. Her last few steps were practically skips, but she still waved to the couple as she departed, bound swiftly for her own future.

…

Spring was in full swing – flowers blossomed all over, around, and inside the palace, positively spilling over. The sun was bright but light showers came quite frequently, usually once a day. Ariel and Eric were back to spending time together, much to the enchantment of the palace. Maids gossiped and fawned over their time together – on the beach, to the meadows, in town. It had been almost a month since they had been officially and openly courting, but they had the ease and comfort of a couple who had been together far longer.

Everyone, _everyone_ , was aware that they were courting, but no one was more vocal about this fact than Ariel’s sisters – well, five of them anyway. They constantly demanded new stories and while it could sometimes be annoying, Ariel liked that she was able to speak about Eric at all, and do so without consequence or disapproval. The sisters would sometimes demand that he come over and meet all of them. While Eric had agreed several times, Ariel had still only introduced him to Adella, promising the other that in time, they would all meet. She still wanted some privacy for the two of them.

Which brought them to the beach in front of the castle, a place they so often frequented. They had picnicked there today and just finished eating, now resting and looking up at the sky.

“I like seagulls.” Ariel said dreamily, looking at a few flying above.

“I don’t trust them. They’re shifty.” Eric said.

Ariel laughed, leaning her head back onto his lap.

“I have something I’d like to give you.”

“Hm?” Ariel said, almost absentmindedly.

_Eric hated feeling nervous, a lot of that admittedly due to the fact he so seldom was. He never tried to abuse his power or station but he was always incredibly aware – as anyone would be – that he was a prince, and princes usually got what they wanted. Unless he was dealing with other royals, most people were his subjects and his subordinates, and a lot of them were also his friends._

_This particular visit should not have been any different. He was visiting a man who was not royalty, who was a citizen of his kingdom, and who didn’t really know Eric, but seemed to like him enough._

“I know I can’t replace everything you’ve lost, especially how much you’ve risked or lost in our time together.” Eric said, pushing Ariel up lightly. She sat up and shifted her weight off of him, looking him in the eye. That, unfortunately, made him nervous too.

_The door was opened by a maid, who greeted him kindly and asked his business._

_“I’m here to see Mr. Triton, please.”_

_“Of course. He’s in his office, so if you’ll kindly follow me.”_

_Eric walked next to the maid and the two chatted lightly as she took him down the hall, to the right, and up a short flight of stairs. She knocked on the door a few times and, at Mr. Triton’s invitation, opened the door._

_Mr. Triton looked up and his eyebrows shot up at the sight of Eric. “Thank you, Judy.” He said._

_Judy curtseyed and left._

_“Your highness…” Triton said musingly, sitting back in his chair. “I suppose I was expecting you, though perhaps not this soon.”_

“Eric I haven’t lost anything I wasn’t willing to give up.” She reached her hand out and tugged his shirt up, reveling what was now a scar. “Losing you was a different story.”

“And I can’t lose you, either. Not in any way, not again.” Eric said. “We’re here today mostly because of your bravery, because you’re stronger than anyone else. Neither Margaret nor I could find a way to do what we both knew had to be done, we were both too tied up with the future and other burdens. We focused so much on what could’ve happened that we didn’t try to solve the problem within the frame of what has happened.”

“It was my fault, too. I was so scared of losing the past for so long I was willing to give up everything else just to cling to it.”

_“So tell me, son.” Mr. Triton quickly dropped any formality. “What is it that brings you here today?”_

_“I have two requests of you – one a favor, one a formality.”_

_“Let’s start with the formality.”_

_“I’d like to marry your daughter.” Eric said, quickly to the point._

_“Which one? I have seven.”_

_Eric smiled. Maybe this would be easier than he expected. “While I’m sure they’re all lovely, I’m quite taken with Ariel.”_

_Mr. Triton did not answer, but moved to the next question. “And what is the favor?”_

“But now, we’re together, and I know in my heart of hearts that that’s exactly where we’re supposed to be.”

“I know.” Ariel smiled.

“I love you Ariel. From that first night at the ball. I always have. And we have our past, tough as it was. I want to be with you in this moment, but I want to be with you forever.” Eric shifted to his hip quickly and reached into his pocket. “I want you to marry me.”

_“Could I have her mother’s ring?”_

_Mr. Triton leaned back in his chair, pursed his fingers together, then rose up and shook Eric’s hand as his equal. “I think both she and I would like that very much.”_

“Yes!” Ariel screamed, flinging herself onto Eric’ lap and wrapping her arms around his neck. She kissed him full on the lips and he balled the ring up in his hand to embrace her just as strongly.

The two broke apart and Ariel looked down and looked closely at the ring that was being presented to her. The ring slid onto her finger as if it had been made for her, but Ariel supposed that a ring could be meant for one person. She recognized this ring perfectly – it was so well depicted in her favorite painting.


End file.
